Lord Hermione?
by ALRYM
Summary: There was no troll in the girls bathroom in 1991. Hermione found no friends that night. Therefore the brightest witch of her age is on a perilous path. Because with magic it is so very true that knowledge is power. But is it also true that power corrupts? Will the only daughter of two dentists become the third Dark Lord that rises in Dumbledore's lifetime?
1. Collision

Collision

* * *

What had he done to deserve this? Harry Potter was out of his depth. Had he not lived through enough hardships in his fourth year so far?

It all began, when the Goblet of Fire had spit out a piece of parchment. It was the fourth piece of parchment. There should have only been three! And his name was on it. Even though he had not thrown it into the flames of the Goblet! He was effectively forced against his will to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Nobody believed him when he told the truth. Thanks to the thrice forsaken event he became not only a liar but a leper in the eyes of the whole school including his own house Gryffindor. For weeks not even his best friend Ron Weasley had been willing to wish him a good day.

After miraculously surviving the first task everything seemed to get better. At least the other Gryffindors, including Ron, had chosen to get back on talking terms with him. It was just Harry's luck when Professor McGonagall announced that he had to appear not only at the Yule Ball but also had to open the whole feast with a dance. For which he incidentally needed a partner of female sex …

What else was Harry supposed to do than summon up all of his courage? With bravery only a Gryffindor could muster, he asked Cho Chang to accompany him to the Yule Ball. Needless to say, that he received a negative answer. To make matters worse a whole swarm of girls giggled merrily at his expense.

In face of rejection, Harry chose to retreat. At this point, his unlucky streak did not end. No! Such a thing would only happen to an ordinary wizard. But Harry Potter was special! He had the misfortune to run into the only person nobody did mess with. In the literal sense.

That was why Harry found himself on the floor in a badly sorted heap of human limbs. His face was awkwardly pressed onto the cold hard stone floor of a hallway. Mind you the floor of a completely deserted hallway. Except for the only person the whole school did not dare to cross.

"How can anyone be that clumsy?" snarled Hermione Granger.

Before Harry realized what was happening, the witch rolled both of them around. Suddenly she was on top of him. She twisted his collar and thus made breathing much harder for Harry. She used her other arm to threaten him with her wand. The tip was nearly poking him in the eye.

Many things went through Harry's head. In the most unhelpful manner, his inner eye summoned images of a first year Hermione spooking no less than five Slytherins. And he remembered that other time when the Weasley twins had to stay overnight with Madam Pomfrey not once or twice but three times over the course of a single month, just because they had pulled a prank on the irritable witch. The list went on almost endlessly. After the start of this term, not even seventh years were safe. Supposedly she had cursed two of them for not handing a grimoire over fast enough.

Still beside himself, Harry babbled the first thing that came to his mind.

Hermione's eyebrows closed onto each other. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Harry croaked. The stranglehold of the girl was unnaturally firm and just barely allowed him to rasp anything at all.

"No, I want you to repeat what you said before!" The tip of Hermione's wand sparkled threateningly.

Panic flared, Harry tried to remember what he had just said. Had he begged for his life? Any promises made? No! The stress had prompted Harry to splutter those damned words he had been repeating in his head all day over and over again. Harry had a vision of his gravestone. His last words would be carved into it: "Do you want to go to the ball with me?"

Hermione glanced at him. "You wouldn't dare to make fun of me!" Since this was a statement, she chose to add a huge interrogation mark: "Would you?"

Harry gasped: "No! Never!" when he was given opportunity by a lessened strangle of his throat.

To the great amazement of the boy-who-lived Hermione's expression relaxed abruptly. She left his collar alone and her wand retreated. Then she stood up and wiped non-existent dust from her school robe. Her eyes fixed Harry.

"A little short-termed. But you are lucky, I haven't chosen a partner yet. Actually, I considered to completely skip the ball." The witch tried to explain. Harry held his breath when he was allowed a short peek at Hermione's insecurity. "But since you are a champion, I'm willing to make an exception and tag along."

Unable to even say a word, Harry stared at Hogwarts' fury. He had survived, but at what cost?

"Close your mouth and get up!" Hermione ordered her classmate.

Accompanied by a click of his teeth, Harry obeyed.

A wipe of her wand prompted Harry's scattered belongings to fly back into his satchel. Harry held his breath and stared. They had only started with summoning charms at the beginning of the year. It was beyond Harry's understanding how the witch from his class could make a multi-targeted and silent version look easy. Hermione could make anybody feel inferior. It had been this way since the very first lesson. Hermione repeated the spell once more for her own satchel.

"You wanted to go that way." Hermione reminded her petrified counterpart before turning around and continuing her own path in the opposite direction.

* * *

Disclaimer: Dear reader, if you think this is an original work of art, I have marvelous news for you: There are actual books called Harry Potter, which you should take a look at!


	2. Second Choice

Second Chance

* * *

Back in the Gryffindor Common Room Harry was now facing his best mate Ron Weasley. Or to be more exact, he would have faced the other wizard, had his hands not covered the entirety of his face. Harry pondered his fate. Had he really been born under an unlucky star as Professor Trelawny claimed?

"You did what?" Ron asked bewilderedly.

Harry spread his fingers in front of his glasses and looked at his friend. "I asked Hermione Granger if she would accompany me to the Yule Ball!"

"You did not!" Ron said unbelievingly.

"I did!" Harry whispered incredulously. His fingers snapped shut and once more his eyes were hidden.

"But ..." Ron scratched his red hair. "But you wanted to ask Cho Chang!"

Harry's head nodded behind his hands. "I did!"

"Blimey! So you have two dates now?" Ron asked deeply impressed.

"No," Harry explained exhausted. "Cho declined." For a short moment, he even forgot that he was totally panicking over taking none other than Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball.

"So just let me get that straight..." Ron fell silent. In his head, he reviewed their conversation. Finally, he asked: "Cho declines your invitation and the second girl you ask is Hermione Granger?"

Harry groaned – again. "No, it was not like that at all ..."

"Wow! So you asked even more girls out?" Ron asked deeply impressed.

"No. I only asked Hermione." Harry repeated miserably.

"But ..." Ron just could not get over the facts. "But why?"

Harry started his explanation from the very beginning. "I ran into her." His hands visualized a collision. "We fell over each other." His fingers tumbled to the table. "Then one thing led to another." Harry wiggled his hands.

The redhead could not seem to understand at all. "That's no reason to invite her to the Yule Ball!" He thought that point over once more. "Is that a muggle thing? If you knock a girl over, you have to ask her to a dance?"

"No." Harry allowed his head to drop onto the table. "I've been repeating the question all day long in my head. Over and over again. To make sure I'd get it out flawlessly at the right moment - do you understand?"

Ron snorted: "That was definitely not the right moment! You should have apologized. Maybe she would have hexed your nose off ... Madam Pomfrey can regrow that over the course of a day or maybe two..."

Harry threw his hands up in despair: "What am I supposed to do now?"

That was a very good question. Ron thought hard. His efforts were rewarded with an idea. "You claim you're ill."

"Sure," Harry confirmed sarcastically. "That is a failproof plan. I am sure Madam Pomfrey would allow me to hide in one of her beds without a reason. And certainly, Hermione would never check on me in the Hospital Wing. And certainly, she would not kill me with her bare hands once my lie is discovered."

Ron acknowledged that objection with a nod. "You could try to explain everything."

Harry looked disbelieving at his friend. Were they talking about the same Hermione Granger?

"You're right, you couldn't," Ron confirmed the silent objection. He nodded knowingly: "She would gouge your eyes out, rip out your teeth and skin you alive!"

A shiver ran down Harry's spine. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"That's exactly what she did to the basilisk in second year!" Ron replied with a voice that was supposed to sound knowing.

"That is totally made up!" Harry protested.

"Oh? So you want to claim that she did not kill the Basilisk?" Ron questioned.

"Of course she did! Otherwise, the school would have been closed. McGonagall said so herself."

"When you look into the eyes of a basilisk, you get petrified. Did you know that?" asked Ron.

"Everyone in Hogwarts knows that. After all, several students were petrified. They were lucky not to die because they didn't look directly into the eyes." Naturally, Harry had read the article in the Daily Prophet on basilisks.

"That's the proof," Ron said energetically. "Hermione must have done something with the eyes of the Basilisk so that its gaze could not harm her." Ron made clawing movements with his fingers.

"Certainly she did something. But that does not mean she used her bare hands! Surely she used some sophisticated protection spell or an illusion for diversion or something entirely different."

"Whether she scratched out the basilisk's eyes with her bare hands or did it with her wand, the result remains the same." Ron glossed over generously.

"I think it makes a difference!" Harry argued.

"Who cares? I's still dead!" Ron argued right back.

"And that she ripped out its teeth and skinned it has not been proven either!" Harry announced determinedly. "Besides Hermione and Dumbledore, no one has ever seen the basilisk. Everything has been made up! That is all gossip!"

Ron did not give up easily when he felt that he was right. "Basilisks are incredibly poisonous and their skin is almost as resistant as that of a dragon. Granger has probably harvested the skin and poison for her dark purposes. "

Harry did not even want to imagine his date skinning a basilisk, or siphoning off the poison. "Those are just rumors!"

"Okay," Ron smirked smugly. "So you want to tell me, you cann't imagine Granger tearing the teeth out of the dead snake and skinning it!"

Harry's mouth opened to do just that. However, a horrible memory crossed his mind. In their third year, Hagrid had brought a hippogriff named Buckbeak into class. The half-giant had the glorious idea that a student could feed the dangerous combination of eagle and horse. When he had revealed his mad plan, Hermione had been the only one to take a step forward. Hagrid had handed her a dead hare with an encouraging smile.

Without batting an eye, Hermione had looked at the animal in her hand and then at the much larger predator. She drew her wand and murmured "Diffindo!" At first, no one – not even Hagrid – understood why she had done so. It was only after her wand had been stowed away, that the witch had shown them, what she had in mind. With a mighty rip, Hermione had torn apart the fur.

The bloody piece of meat immediately attracted the Hippogriff. Hermione had held it up for the yellow eyes to stare at it, then threw it. The beast's mighty beak had plucked it out of the air and devoured it with obvious pleasure.

Afterwards, the creature had bowed before Hermione and she had been allowed to pet the creature contently for the rest of the period. While Hagrid had given her eight points for making a correct assumption about the hippogriff's eating habits. Once more Ron's words spoken in first year had rung true: "She is scary! Brilliant, but scary!"

Ron interrupted Harry's thoughts: "Well mate if Hermione does tear you from limb to limb, can I have your Firebolt?"

* * *

A/N: For whoever cares about such things:

1\. Thanks for the positive feedback!

2\. I was asked by ArtimuosJackson if the title should not be "Lady Hermione"? That was a very Slytherin way of pointing out an obvious mistake! But I would not be me, if I could not totally explain that away. (If you ever need to check me for Polyjuice Potion...) Here is my supreme and final rectification on the matter: First of all, I wanted to make the parallel to Voldemort obvious. Second on the list, the title is not supposed to point in direction of marriage. And finally,(Beware of trivia!) a woman can be a Lord - The Queen is the Lord of Mann(which is an island).

3\. Many thanks to ctc1000 who beta-read this chapter and did not want to take credit for it!


	3. Dancing Lessons

Dancing Lessons

* * *

Harry was restless as he waited for the dismissal bell. It was the last lesson of the day and it was Friday. He was yearning to get off the hard wooden bench. Professor McGonagall was handing out an assignment for transfiguration that would have to be completed by Monday. Harry looked forward to playing a game of Exploding Snape or Wizard's Chess with Ron. He would have preferred to take his Firebolt out for a fly but the dark clouds were ominous.

"And I really don't want to repeat myself again and again, but as you all should know by now, I want everybody's homework on my desk before the bell announces the beginning of our lesson! No hovering of parchments! And absolutely no enchanted paper birds!" The Head of House Gryffindor sternly told her students before finally dismissing them, "Have a nice weekend."

Harry's determination to quickly gather his ink, parchment and quills could not have been greater if Professor Dumbledore had ordered him to leave the room immediately. He stuffed everything into his satchel in record time. Harry sighed however when he saw his best mate's lazy and sloth-like attempts at packing.

"How can Granger always be the first to leave the classroom?" Ron wondered aloud as the bushy-haired girl disappeared.

"She probably used a summoning charm," Harry answered instead of noting that instead of complaining about others, she simply hurried. By the time Ron finished, they were the last students left in the room.

"Mr. Potter, one moment, if you please," said Professor McGonagall. The request was obviously meant to be an order.

Harry froze as he was about to exit. He glanced at Ron, who in turn was blinking in confusion. Was he in trouble again? The uncertainty on Ron's face mirrored his own state of mind. Their Head of House inspected the two young wizards. "Blimey!" Ron whispered quite loudly "I'll wait in the Common Room for you Harry."

Left behind by his mate, Harry turned around and went reluctantly to the headdesk. "Yes, Professor?"

"Mister Potter, it was recently brought to my attention that you are still in need of a partner for the Yule Ball."

Harry was surprised that McGonagall was interested in his personal life. Instead of correcting McGonagall, he asked, "It was brought to your attention?"

"Yes, accidentally." The professor pursed her lips in slight disapproval. "I overheard a couple of girls talking about your failed attempt to court Miss Chang."

At that moment, Harry wished the ground would open and swallow him up. It had only been two days ago, but his rejection was so well known that the teachers had heard?

"Mr. Potter. I can understand why you would choose to ask out Miss Chang." The professor had a small smile for her most difficult but bravest Gryffindor. "However... perhaps it would be better to invite a girl in your own year."

Harry nodded noncommittally. He did not need a lecture on how Cho was out of his league. She was sporty, clever and a real cutie, but unfortunately many students realized that.

Professor McGonagall chose her next words carefully. "Alternatively, you might ask a girl from the third year to accompany you. Perhaps you are not aware, but they are not allowed to attend without an invitation from a student of the fourth year or above. You would be less likely to be rejected." McGonagall wanted the son of her favorite student, Lily Evans, to have an enjoyable Yule Ball.

For the very first time, Harry was glad that he had bumped into Hermione. "Thank you for your concern. But I already have a partner."

Professor McGonagall was surprised. "Really?"

Harry was rather annoyed by the lack of confidence of his Head of House!

The elder witch raised an eyebrow. "If I may ask, who did you invite?"

Harry wasn't sure if McGonagall thought he was lying or if she was asking out of curiosity. He hesitantly responded "Hermione Granger."

"Miss Granger?" The older woman's eyes widened. "That ... is nice."

There was a long pause. Harry didn't feel a need to volunteer more details. "May I go now?"

"Pardon?" Professor McGonagall had been deep in thought. She looked at Harry uncertainly. "You realize that you will have to dance?"

"Yes. I am aware of that. You did mention it before." Harry confirmed.

"You have to open the Ball with the other champions. Does Miss Granger know that too?"

"Uh ..." Harry swore to himself. He had completely forgotten to tell her!

"... dance lessons for the both of you …" Both of the professor's eyebrows had risen by now. "We will post the time and place on the notice board in the Common Room."

Harry hurriedly took his leave. He wondered if he should tell Hermione in person or wait until she found out in another way. Maybe Professor McGonagall would deliver this message. There was no need to discuss this with Ron. It was obvious for Harry, which course of action his best mate would suggest.

Harry wandered lost in thought. On the one hand, Professor McGonagall had authority over members of her house. Still, even if it was an accident, Harry had asked Hermione to the dance. He didn't want her to be embarrassed, and truthfully, he hoped that they would have a good time. He wiped the sweat off his brow and took a deep breath to calm down. He was a Gryffindor and he had faced greater challenges in the past. With determination, he walked into the library to seek out Hermione.

She was easy to spot. The bushy haired witch had commandeered the central table for herself, and there were piles of thick grimoires. Everything on the table belonged to her. The other students knew that it was the height of foolishness to encroach on Hermione's studies. Rumors circulated on what happened to idiots who had dared to touch Hermione's books, or even worse, mix up her notes. Even the Slytherins knew not to bother Hermione in the library.

"What do you want?" asked Hermione. She lifted her gaze from her parchment while her quill kept on scribbling down some obscure notes.

Surprised that she had noticed him so quickly, Harry froze for a moment. Only after Hermione had huffed and returned to reading, did Harry find his voice. "We have to dance."

Hermione looked up instantly. Her brown eyes stared at Harry with no expression. "I do not have to do anything."

"McGonagall ... I'm a champion ... opening dance at Yule Ball." Harry stuttered.

"I see." Hermione turned her attention back to her parchment. Harry noticed it was some sort of complicated arithmantic formula.

Lesser wizards would have backed away meekly. But Harry was no coward. He took his time to think about exactly what he wanted to say, "McGonagall wants us to take lessons in dancing. She will post when and where on the board in the Common Room. "

After finishing another paragraph, Hermione glanced at him. "I have no time for that."

Harry was unsure how to proceed. In his head, a voice that sounded surprisingly like his best mate shouted that he should let McGonagall deal with Hermione. If she refused their Head of House, then their professor might break the arrangement, and match Harry to some other witch. A witch, which would not hex Harry for stepping on her toes. Instead of following that line of thought, Harry blurted out "Do you know how to dance?"

"No." Hermione spared Harry another glance before immersing herself in her book.

The youngest champion of the Triwizard Tournament suppressed his annoyance. "I'm supposed to open the Yule Ball with the first dance." To emphasize his point, he added, "With you."

This time Hermione did not even spare him a glance. "Alright."

Harry sighed relieved. He was about to leave the witch to her studies, but at the last moment he wanted to confirm their agreement, "So you'll attend the dancing lessons?"

Hermione turned a page casually. "No."

Slowly and carefully, Harry summarized the facts, "You do understand, that we have to dance in front of everybody? You don't know how to dance, just like me? But you're still refusing to attend dancing lessons?"

"Three out of three," Hermione confirmed.

Harry was not the only wizard who feared the serious and studious girl. It was common knowledge Hermione was not one to be crossed. Nevertheless, Harry was getting annoyed. He argued, "But we have to practice, otherwise we'll be ridiculed by all three schools!"

Harry realized he had gone too far. Arguing with Hermione Granger was a bad idea. Her head jerked up and she stared at him, in a rather unfriendly manner. Her right hand was noticeably hidden in her school robe. Harry suspected that he was on the verge of being hexed.

Instead of delivering a curse, Hermione smiled faintly. Her left hand tapped her notes as if the formulas had some secret meaning. "Don't worry. You take those dancing lessons."

In desperation, Harry cried "But we'll be dancing together. We both have to practice!" Visions of Hermione cursing him for a misstep danced through his mind.

Without looking up, Hermione replied, "And that is where you're wrong. Only one of us needs to know how to dance."

"But how?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Before giving her next answer, Hermione checked the formula that she had written down during their conversation. She smiled as if certain she had solved a difficult problem. Harry was about to leave since he had been ignored for nearly a minute when Hermione said casually. "I have figured it out. You're the only one who needs to attend the lessons."

Harry was more than a little frustrated, "You are not making sense. We have to practice dancing. I don't want us to look bad in front of our classmates or the other schools."

In a confident voice, Hermione replied, "You've my word that I'll not make you look bad."

"But how?" Harry repeated. Hermione clearly had thought of something, but he didn't understand her line of reasoning.

The bushy haired witch imperiously declared "That is not your concern."

"It matters to me…." Harry wanted to start his next objection, but he was interrupted.

"My time is valuable!" Hermione ranted. She stared him in the eyes as if daring him to object further.

In his four years at Hogwarts, Harry had faced many difficult situations. This one was kind of new. But if he could handle a Hungarian Horntail, he could deal with a witch and an opening waltz. Nonetheless, for the moment there was nothing he could do and it was time to leave. As he exited the library, he missed Hermione's eyes measuring him.


	4. Yule Ball

Yule Ball

* * *

Somehow, it was still a secret whom Harry had invited to the Yule Ball. Hermione had not caved in and had been absent in each and every one of Professor McGonagall's dancing lessons. Therefore Harry had practiced with various girls from Gryffindor. Once even Professor McGonagall had the misfortune to place a toe beneath Harry's clumsy foot.

In the privacy of his very own head, Harry wondered why McGonagall had not announced these exercising hours earlier. During the dancing lessons, it would have been easy to ask one of the girls to accompany him. Some of them had hinted at their willingness so obviously that even Harry had taken notice of it.

At least once per lesson the Yule Ball had been mentioned by one of his various partners. Harry remembered that Parvati had been the first to ask: "Who are you going to the ball with?" He had answered truthfully: "Hermione Granger" The pretty witch had furrowed her pristine forehead. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. But don't take me for an idiot."

No matter whom or how often Harry had told, that Hermione was his date, no one was willing to accept his word for it. This reminded Harry of his denials of voluntarily entering the Tournament. It was extraordinary how obtuse people at Hogwarts could be.

It was a sobering thought, but it was likely that most students were still believing, that he had cheated his way into the tournament. Maybe they had only arranged themselves with the idea, that he risked his life for their entertainment and indirect fame.

Harry paced in front of the fireplace nervously. His imagination colorized vivid pictures of everything, that possibly could go wrong. Most of them were centered on stumbling or some other sort of mishap. But there was something else, that frightened Harry even more: What if Hermione was executing her revenge upon him right now? What if she did not plan on going to the Yule Ball at all?

Harry lost track of his thoughts. An eery silence fell over the common room. All students were looking around in confusion. One by one their glances fixed upon one single point. Finally, everyone's face was turned toward the stairwell of the girls' dorms.

A young woman of indisputable beauty stood on the last stair. Her brown hair was braided and piled up so that her slender neck was on full display. Although Harry had no idea what chiffon was, it nevertheless clung to her well-shaped body. Her dress was periwinkle blue, which flattered her rather pale skin. The cut was not revealing, and the dress was rather demure in a sophisticated way. She was truly gorgeous, in an innocent manner. She took his breath away.

The witch seemed familiar. But try as he might, he could not place her. Harry wasn't the only Gryffindor impressed by this witch. Slowly, conversations restarted. They had a new topic. Which year was this student from? And even more important: How could such a girl have slipped past everyone's notice?

After she had soaked up enough admiration, the young woman stepped down from her elevated position. She was smiling while she steered into Harry's direction. He almost cringed when she told him: "We can take our leave now."

Harry would have recognized this voice anywhere. He had had the dubious honor of listening to it for years. Whenever the cleverest student of their generation answered a question, this voice was to be heard.

Harry had run through many scenarios for the Yule Ball. But a gorgeous Hermione was not one of them. Only in the empty hallway did he dare to speak: "Wow ... you ... wow!"

Hermione was rather amused by how flustered the wizard next to her was. It was funny to watch him steal glances of her when he thought she couldn't see. Every so often he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. It was rather flattering, albeit a little silly. At some point she became impatient: "Just spit it out! What do you want to say?"

Harry stammered. "You are beautiful!"

The witch rolled her eyes upon the creativity she had instilled in Harry. She made a mocking curtsy. "I know. But thanks anyway." A soft gleam in her eyes took away any sting from her words.

A lopsided grin crept onto Harry's face. He had never imagined Hermione could be mischievous. Harry had a hard time concentrating on their way down to the Entrance Hall. He tried not to be obvious in starting at the beautiful girl next to him. But he could not help himself, and whenever they passed a polished armor plate or anything reflective, he tried to gaze at her image.

Hermione took over the lead. Harry was preoccupied with stealing glances at her, and she was happy to meander around, taking a few detours. Harry realized that she had no desire to arrive early at the dance.

When they were coming closer to the Great Hall, Hermione linked their arms together. "Everybody should be there by now." Then she walked side by side with him to the last staircase ending in the Entrance Hall.

The double door to the Great Hall was closed. Therefore everyone had to wait in the Entrance Hall. Harry froze in the face of the large number of assembled students. He was supposed to dance in front of this crowd?

"What are you waiting for? We need to go to the other champions." Hermione demanded impatiently. For once, Harry was grateful that Hermione was this bossy. Otherwise, he would have been petrified in front of the entirety of Hogwarts.

Harry had expected they would need to push through masses of students. But the crowd parted for them as if they were royalty. Heads turned, and many mouths opened wide in shock. Harry and Hermione walked through regally. Blimey, Harry thought. People must be even more scared of Hermione when she is smiling.

"There you are!" Professor McGonagall beckoned the couple over. "Your place is right here!" She gestured at a space next to Victor Krum. The Bulgarian Seeker and his date were placed on the right side of the portal to the Great Hall.

The other champions and their partners stood opposite Harry and Hermione. Fleur Delacour was accompanied by Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw's Quidditch captain. Harry blanched. The cause was Cedric Diggory's escort. To his great astonishment, horror, and envy, Harry found himself facing another member of Ravenclaw's Quidditch team. Cho Chang was as beautiful as Fleur Delacour and Hermione.

Cho nodded at Harry. Harry need neither a crystal ball or tea leaves to take a peak on a very possible and very horrific future. He vowed to keep Hermione away from Cho at all costs. A shudder ran through him when he imagined Cho telling Hermione that she was his second choice.

A creak interrupted Harry's musings. It underlined the opening of the ancient double door to the Great Hall. Numerous round tables had replaced the four House Tables and the room was decorated festively. Huge Christmas trees were placed in the corners and large banners represented the three schools.

The entry into the Great Hall began with the students from Durmstrang. Their headmaster had gathered them and marched them forward as if they were a military unit. Afterwards, it was more relaxed and chaotic. Neither Madam Maxime or any of the Hogwarts teachers saw a need to coordinate their students.

As the students walked through, the champions still waited to enter. They were being inspected by the other people attending the Yule Ball.

"Everybody is staring at you," Harry whispered as the crowd passed by them. Apparently, the rest of the school was as impressed with Hermione's transformation as Harry. "Have you used a spell to look so beautiful?"

The words echoed in the young wizard's head like church bells in a silent night. Harry winced as he immediately realized he had put his foot into his mouth. Harry quickly peeked at Hermione's face, as he stood next to her, holding her hand. Initially, her face clouded over with a mask of barely controlled anger. But as he was quickly searching for an apology, or perhaps an easy way to grovel, a Yule miracle happened. Her face cleared up, and a smile settled on her lips. "An odd compliment."

Harry sighed in relief. He swore to think carefully before saying anything else tonight. He also vowed to keep Cho and Hermione apart.

When everyone had finally passed the four champions and their partners, Harry's feet hurt from standing. McGonagall made another appearance. "Yout'll enter the Great Hall in the order in which the Goblet of Fire spat your names out."

The reason for this directive became obvious when Victor Krum walked through the double door. As he set the first foot across the threshold, the light of all torches and candles weakened. Fiery blue letters were written: Victor Krum, Durmstrang. The over-sized school banner on the left wall fluttered. It was the Durmstrang crest. The double-headed eagle wrested itself free from the green background he had been stitched on. The bird spread its wings and flew over the heads of the students. The illusion dissipated only when Victor and his companion had taken their seat.

Following the champion of Durmstrang was Fleur Delacour. The lights were still dim so the French witch's name could be read easily. The Beauxbaton's emblem on the right wall flapped. Its crossed wands became corporal. They sprayed a shower of stars high into the air. Upon their descent, these stars turned into palm-sized snowflakes. A merry jingle sounded whenever one came in contact with something and shattered into nothing.

As Cedric entered the Great Hall, Harry was distracted by Hermione. She was murmuring incantations and gesturing with her wand.

"What are you doing?" Harry whispered.

Harry looked at Cedric's show just in time, to see the four animals of the Houses, rip out of the coat of arms on the wall opposite the main entrance. The Hufflepuff badger marched proudly right over Cedric's head, while Gryffindor's lion, Ravenclaw's eagle, and Slytherin's snake soared through the air to members of their own houses. As far as Harry could determine, Hermione had not affected Cedric's entry.

Finally, it was Harry and Hermione's turn. Her wand was hidden once again in her robes and they hooked their arms together. Harry began to walk through the great door. His name and school were also written in blue fire. Again a banner started to flutter. It was once more Hogwarts' school crest.

Harry was already waiting for the lion to come over to him when Hermione whispered: "Finite!"

The Hogwarts coat of arms stopped flapping.

Harry felt a twitch of Hermione's right hand beneath his left arm. A cold breeze blew out all candles and torches. Harry stood rooted to the spot as darkness rushed over the entire Great Hall. Only the moon and the stars of the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall were still offering light.

A rattling breath could be heard. Contours appeared. At first, they were hard to see. As everyone's eyes were slowly accustoming to the darkness, it became apparent, that there was some figure hovering.

It did not matter, that Hermione had only produced a translucent and colorless illusion. The light conditions were very poor and the shape was very close to the original. A phantasm of a dementor floated in the air above the High Table.

With a whisper, Hermione leaned against Harry: "I've heard you can cast a Patronus." When Harry made no move for his wand, Hermione added: "Alternatively, we could walk to the table of honor, while the illusion of the Dementor remains floating there. Alas, that would be quite the anti-climatic show."

Harry ground his teeth. He hated to be the center of attention. He drew his wand and spoke the magic formula loudly: "Expecto Patronum!" Silver light burst from the tip of his wand and blinded everyone.

When students and professors stopped blinking, a stag stood in front of them, made out of pure light. Unlike the sun one did not feel the caress of warmth on the skin but in one's heart. The sinister atmosphere was banished. All the wizards and witches present realized they had nothing to fear.

"Amazing!" Hermione whispered. Harry was surprised to see admiration on her face. He knew that his Patronus was quite impressive. It had driven away many dementors in his third year. Still given Hermione's reputation, he had thought she could also summon one.

The stag stormed forward and the dark shapes that comprised the illusion appeared to flee in front of the incandescent creature. The image of the dementor unraveled as clearly it could not stand against Harry's spell.

Hermione had extinguished all candles and torches and she made no effort to reverse this. Thus Harry led the witch only in the warm light of his majestic Patronus over to her place.

A gesture of Dumbledore's wand made torches and candles flare up again. "Since we've all been reminded of how the champions are named and where they come from, we can continue." After waiting for some polite laughs, the headmaster started his speech: "First of all I would like to thank all witches and wizards for showing up on this wonderful evening. I hope that our foreign visitors have made themselves at home here in Hogwarts."

After loud applause, Dumbledore went on. "The Triwizard Tournament is not about three tasks but it is about young people. For centuries, bonds of friendship have been forged over the tournament. It was our desire to give every one of you the opportunity to take part in this tradition."

"The Triwizard Tournament is a simile of life. Sometimes we're the only one to face a task. Sometimes in face of danger or a challenge, we may feel alone and abandoned, but we're not. Friends and family are always just one thought away, even when they are not present." Silence fell over the Great Hall.

"I've come to the end of my little speech." Dumbledore twinkled. "First I've to thank the Minister of Magic for his support. Preparation and execution of the Triwizard Tournament would have been impossible without the help of the ministry. Therefore please welcome once more in our midst Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports!"

Both men rose when their name was called out. Both wizards were applauded. The second applause was almost deafening, while the first could be faintly described as polite.

At this point, Harry's attention wandered. Mr. Crouch droned on, in an extremely boring manner. Ludo Bagman tried to speak more enthusiastically about sports and Quidditch. But Mr. Bagman was not the most eloquent speaker, and Harry preferred to steal glances at Hermione anyway.

Before he realized what was happening, the three other champions rose. Harry followed their example hurriedly, almost knocking over his chair and eliciting a look of warning from Hermione. Harry extended his hand to his date, giving her ample time to rise up elegantly. He was not eager to show the skills he had acquired in the dance lessons. Even with the beautiful Fleur Delacour on the floor, he knew many eyes would be on Hermione and him.

Only when they were about to begin the waltz, Harry realized that his plus one had not attended a single dancing lesson! That did not bode well at all. He turned slightly anxious as Hermione's hand searched for a good spot to rest on his shoulder.


	5. Yule Ball II

Yule Ball Date

* * *

Hermione clicked her heels in rhythm to the music. "Go ahead!"

Harry was too afraid to make the first step. He realized dreadfully, that he stepping on Hermione's toes was not the worst, that could happen. Since she had not been at a single dancing lesson, it was entirely possible to not only stumble but fall over each other's feet. He stayed completely still through several beats of the waltz.

"What are you waiting for?" Hermione hissed. "Everybody is staring!"

With no options left, Harry made his first move, praying that they would not embarrass themselves to hard. Hermione managed to tag along. As she continued to follow him smoothly, Harry realized that she seemed to dance reasonably good.

"How are you doing that?" Harry asked in a reproachful tone. "You distinctly told me you couldn't dance!" At that moment, he raised his left arm and gave Hermione a push with his right. The witch made a noise, which reminded Harry of a girlish squeal of joy. But Harry must have been imaging things! Hermione did not squeal, and certainly, if she did, she would not sound like a giggling girl. Harry pulled her hand toward him, and just like that, Hermione moved back to him. She had not missed a single step!

"I don't know how to dance." Hermione grinned.

"But you're dancing quite well." Harry objected. Hermione's feet were lifting at exactly the right moment. When he moved forward, she moved backward and vice versa. She followed him perfectly.

A self-satisfied grin appeared on her face. "I enchanted my shoes."

"Really? That is possible?"

To this day Harry had never seen Hermione's mischievous streak. She winked at him. "Madam Desmaret's Guide for Ladies of any Age. Chapter Three: How to make a good impression while dancing."

Harry thought for a while about what Hermione revealed. "Couldn't you have enchanted my shoes as well?"

"No. That would not have worked." The brunette tilted her head, giving Harry a sympathetic smile, before demanding with childish glee, "Twirl me again!"

The wizard obeyed. His left arm rose and he gently pushed Hermione with his right arm. As she spun, he maintained the connection, carefully maneuvering her under his left arm and then returning her to the original position. After practicing this routine with so many witches from Gryffindor, dancing seemed so simple that he could relax and concentrate on his partner. It was difficult to believe how different she looked simply by cleaning up her bushy hair.

Hermione smiled happily. Certainly, she had smiled before, but those smiles appeared malicious, patronizing or diabolic. Suddenly he realized that he had never seen her truly happy. In the last three and a half years, she had always looked serious and guarded. "Only the shoes are enchanted. I've no idea what to do with my arms or in which direction I should take the next step. That is all up to you." Hermione babbled.

"It would have been a great help if you had taken the time to enchant my shoes." Harry sighed. Another thought struck him, "And the other girls would have certainly been grateful as well."

"The shoes are only useful if your partner can dance. That's why you need to know how to dance." Hermione tried to explain. "They lift and lower only in the rhythm I specified for them. Just lifting..."

"Specified? When did you specify something." Harry requested nonplussed.

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was well known that she hated interruptions.

Understanding what he had done wrong, Harry tried to correct his mistake "Sorry! What were you saying?"

After reconsidering briefly, Hermione answered, "I wanted to say: Just lifting your feet is not dancing. Crafting such an enchantment would be so difficult, that it would actually be easier to learn dancing. Especially since one would have to switch shoes for different rhythms."

Harry nodded agreeably. He didn't understand the actual spell-crafting behind the enchantment but he could follow the overall thought process. A moment later, he maneuvered them past Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley. He had been so distracted by their conversation that he completely missed how crowded the dance floor had become.

"Shall we take a break?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded in confirmation and Harry heard her heels click. Her stop was so sudden, that Harry nearly stepped on her feet. His seeker trained reflexes were handy as he quickly regained his balance to avoid falling.

Hermione linked their arms together as they left the dance floor. Harry scanned the Great Hall. It was impossible to miss Ron. His dreadful robe stood out like a sore thumb. Harry tried to lead Hermione over to his best mate. The witch stopped him by digging her heels in. Her tone was quiet but demanding, "What are you doing?"

Harry was a little bit confused and stated, "Ron is sitting over there."

"No, we'll return to the champions' table," Hermione replied.

For once, Harry refused to obey. He repeated stubbornly, "But Ron sits over there!"

Hermione took a deep breath and – to Harry's surprise – said nothing. Instead, her nostrils flared and her head bobbed a few times. She said in forced calmness, "You hang out with Ron Weasley each and every day of the year. Today you'll make an exception and talk to the other champions." Hermione nodded in direction of the champions' table. "Perhaps you'll learn something useful by doing so. In your current situation, the smallest hint could equal the difference between success and failure." With a smile, she drove her point home, "As far as I know, you still have no idea what awaits you in the second task, or am I wrong?"

Harry had no comeback for that. Therefore, they returned to the champions' table where Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies were already seated. Harry noticed that the beautiful blonde witch was quite annoyed, given her crossed arms and sullen body language. Clearly, something unpleasant must have happened between the pair.

As Harry helped Hermione with her chair, Fleur turned away from her date. Harry had barely sat down when she leaned towards him and asked eagerly, "You can summon a corporal Patronus?" Despite her French accent, Harry could hear the astonishment in her words.

Ironically, Harry behaved like a deer in headlights. He stared at Fleur and only when Hermione poked him in the ribs, he managed to find his voice, "Uhh... Yes, I can."

"That is very impressive magic!" Fleur purred. She touched Harry's forearm with her left hand. "I asked Roger if he could summon a Patronus. He can not ... even though he's three years ahead of you. So I was wondering: Who taught the charm to you?"

"Professor Lupin," Harry replied.

Fleur turned her head to the High Table. "Which one is Professor Lupin?"

"He's no longer at Hogwarts." Harry was still miffed that his favorite professor was forced to leave after a single year. Moody was okay, but he missed Lupin.

Fleur was not happy either. She made some sort of dissatisfied moue.

Harry wanted to explain Lupin's absence but he knew he had to keep the man's furry problem a secret. In the end, Harry rather lamely commented, "He taught us only last year."

"Only last year?" Fleur pouted. "He must be an excellent teacher if he could teach someone how to evoke a Patronus. Why did he leave?"

"That ... uh ... Professor Lupin had to retire ... for private reasons." Harry stammered.

"Oh, that's such a pity!" Fleur sighed theatrically.

"How do you like it here at Hogwarts?" Hermione intervened, obviously changing the topic.

The young French witch looked over at the English one. While she was probably unaware of Hermione's fearsome reputation, her mood still fell visibly.

"This is Hermione Granger, by the way." Harry introduced his companion to Fleur.

"Pleased to meet you," Fleur replied warily.

"Harry and I are housemates. In Gryffindor." Hermione explained. Harry was curious why she chose those words. Still, that was the truth.

Hermione's statement caused a miraculous change in Fleur's attitude. Her beguiling smile returned. Harry noticed that the French witch was leaning towards him. He had to resist the temptation to stare past the neckline of her dress.

Harry repeated Hermione's question, "How do you like it here at Hogwarts?"

"It's nice," Fleur responded with a thick French accent. "But I don't really feel at home. And Beauxbatons is way more beautiful."

"How is Beauxbatons different? Is your school also housed in a castle?" Harry asked curiously.

"Beauxbatons is a castle. Hogwarts is a medieval fortress." Fleur launched a detailed description. She painted a picture of a palatial complex dominated by high windows, wide hallways and countless rooms adorned with marble and gorgeous paintings.

"That sounds nice!" Harry replied with a smile. "I think it is a pity, that we don't complete each task at another school. That way each of us would have had a chance to look at all three schools."

"That would have been great!" Fleur clapped enthusiastically.

Behind Harry, a chair scraped over the floor. Surprised, he looked around and found Hermione standing up. She subtly nudged him toward Fleur, and then went over to Roger Davies. She bent down to whisper something into his ear, whereupon the older boy first went completely white and then stood up.

To Harry's great surprise, Roger led Hermione over to the dance floor. Once again he realized how beautiful the young witch looked tonight. Harry watched attentively as Hermione hit her heels in the rhythm of the music before she disappeared amongst the other couples.

Glancing at Fleur out of the corner of his eye, Harry guessed that she was probably looking after Roger and Hermione as well. Gathering his courage, he turned towards the beautiful French witch,,,"Are you interested in dancing?"

"Oui, most certainly!" Fleur told him with an inviting smile.

Harry stood up, offered his hand to the young woman, and led her to the dance floor.

Harry and Fleur attracted a lot of attention. Harry took no notice of it. He barely registered enough of his surroundings to not collide with other couples. He was unable to keep his eyes off Fleur.

Dancing with Fleur was a completely different experience than it had been with Hermione. The Gryffindor girl had relied on Harry and his lead. He had moved her with force, actually using his hands to push and pull her back in twirls. Fleur Delacour, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. She sensed the slightest of touches, anticipated what Harry intended to do and acted accordingly. At times, she made movements more complicated than they had to be and she even led him with a gentle touch through some moves he hadn't known about at all.

"You dance well." Fleur praised. "But you don't seem very experienced."

Harry confirmed her suspicions, "That's true. My first dancing lesson was only three weeks ago."

"Really?" Fleur's accent intensified, indicating her surprise. "You're very good for three weeks."

"Thank you, but you're a far better dancer," Harry replied sincerely.

"Maybe I could teach you more." Fleur offered with a saucy smile.

They danced to three more songs before Harry was a little bit out of breath and returned Fleur to the champions' table. The only female champion was taking very deep breaths too. Harry noticed because he was not able to refrain from glimpsing at her heaving breasts.

Hermione was already back in her seat. Harry noticed that there was no trace of Roger. "Harry, why don't you fetch us something to drink?"

It would have been hard to decline that request from his date. So instead of sitting down, Harry walked around the dance floor. A selection of different refreshments was offered at the bar. Harry had no idea what the girls wanted to drink. He took a sip of punch and found it adequate.

With three mugs in his hands, Harry turned around and found himself face to face with Ludo Bagman. The wizard grinned toothily at him. "Hi, Harry!"

Bagman wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders and led Harry into a quiet corner. Harry was surprised the wizard wanted to speak to him. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Bagman."

The adult wizard blinked in surprise. "And a Merry Christmas to you." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and put on a mask of concern before he whispered at Harry, "You're the youngest of the champions."

"That is true Mr. Bagman." Harry nodded. He had no idea what the man wanted, but it was kind of a bad moment for small talk. Wasn't it obvious from the three mugs that he was busy?

"Some people at the ministry think you might be out of your depth." The man said, glancing around as if making sure they were not heard. "Personally, I think it's kind of unfair, that you're so much younger than everybody else too. But you did a great job at the First Task."

"Thank you," Harry answered politely.

Ludo Bagman sensed that he was running out of time and came to the point, "I was wondering, have you solved the riddle of the Golden Egg yet?"

"Kind of," Harry answered evasively.

"Really?" The surprise on Ludo's face made him look very boyish. "You know: There is no shame in asking for help..."

"Yeah. That is nice, but I've got to go. Fleur and Hermione are waiting." Harry lifted the three mugs of punch.

Ludo blinked weirdly, before clapping Harry so hard on the back, that he nearly spilled the content of his mugs. "Who would have thought that!" Ludo exclaimed, shaking his head disbelieving. "He has everything under control! Or should I say everyone?" He gave Harry two thumbs up and left.

Harry was struck speechless by the bizarre encounter. In the end, it took him way longer to deliver the drinks than expected. As Harry came into hearing range, Hermione just finished saying "... something special."

"I'm back," Harry announced and placed two of his three mugs in front of the young ladies.

"Thanks, that is very kind of you," Fleur said in an exaggerated manner.

Hermione said nothing but gestured for Harry to sit down between herself and Fleur.

"What were you talking about?" Harry asked curiously.

"We were talking about the Golden Egg," Fleur answered with a disarming smile. "It produces really terrible noise, don't you think?"

"You've not solved the problem either?" Harry asked and found himself wondering whether he should be relieved or disappointed.

As Fleur combed her fingers through her long silver-blond hair, Harry noticed a flowery fragrance. "That terrible, endless shrieking can rob one of the nerves, can it not?"

"Yes, it's really frustrating," Harry admitted. His conscience made him squirm. So far he had only opened his golden egg twice. He really should be more focused on the tournament but he had been quite busy lately. He had worried for hours over asking out a girl for the Yule Ball. Later on, he was preoccupied with numerous dancing lessons. The rest of his free time had been spent catching up with his best friend Ron.

"You should listen more carefully, Harry," Hermione whispered in Harry's ear. "Fleur has not said that she has not solved the riddle."

Harry turned around bewildered. "You solved it?"

"For the most part." Fleur basked visibly in Harry's appreciation.

"That's great for you," Harry said with a sincere smile.

Without warning, Fleur's hand touched Harry's face. Her warm fingers cupped his cheek tenderly. "You're such a dear boy. Maybe I should just fall in love with you and we'll see what will happen from there on?"

Harry felt the blood rush into his face. Fleur's dark blue eyes glittered against the light of the torches. Harry was petrified as she leaned forward. A shudder ran through his whole body as her lips gently touched his other cheek, grazing his mouth very slightly.

"I'll give you a clue." Fleur's warm, sweet-smelling breath swept over Harry's face. "You must submerge the egg and open it underwater."

"That's all?" Harry rasped. He could barely speak.

"Oui, pretty easy, once you know." Despite or because of Fleur's accent, the words sounded slightly mocking.

It took a moment for Harry to realize what a favor his competitor had just done him, "Thank you, Fleur, that's really nice, generous and ... and ... just great of you!"

Harry could not say more because Cedric and Cho returned at that moment. They were completely out of breath. They looked like they had been dancing since the opening melody.

"Pooh, I'm hot!" Cho exclaimed. Her cheeks were red and she sat slumped in her chair, fanning herself with a menu card.

Cedric immediately jumped at the opportunity, "Shall I get you something to drink?"

"Yeah, that would be great!" Cho answered, smiling radiantly at Cedric. Once he had left, Cho turned curiously at Harry and the other two witches, "What are you talking about?"

Fleur said nothing. Hermione did not open her mouth either. She just stared at Cho until the Ravenclaw witch squirmed and backpedaled hurriedly, "I don't want to impose!"

Fleur looked past Harry at Hermione. She was clearly analyzing the Gryffindor witch. "I need to go to my classmates. I promised a couple of boys a dance." Fleur announced and was gone.

Suddenly Harry was alone with Cho and Hermione. He realized his danger and found a way out of it in record time. He jerked into a standing position and repeated the sentence Professor McGonagall had drilled into him, "May I have the pleasure of this dance?"

Hermione stared at Harry in surprise. She hesitated for a moment and then stood up. A smile flashed across her face as she drawled in a faux-aristocratic tone, "The pleasure is all mine."

Elated, Harry led Hermione to the now less crowded dance floor. One song turned into two. As the fourth song neared its conclusion Harry realized that Hermione was a really pleasant company. Had someone asked, Harry would have admitted that he was having fun. Surprisingly he preferred Hermione as a dancing partner over Fleur. The French witch was a wonderful dancer. But he felt much more comfortable leading Hermione.

Harry tried to glance towards the champions' table. Cedric had long ago returned. He was talking animatedly with Cho. But Harry did not dare to return with Hermione. The evening had been pleasant so far – why should he take a risk?

After the fifth dance, Hogwarts seemed to offer Harry a way to avoid any possible disaster between Cho and Hermione. There was a door that had been created at the side entrance to the Great Hall. Harry remembered McGonagall telling the Gryffindors about it during the last dancing lesson. The small yard on the other side was enchanted and transfigured into a fairy grove.

It offered Harry the perfect opportunity to waste a few minutes. Once they returned, Cho and Cedric might have left the champions' table or at least Krum could be there. And if not, Harry could always request another dance from Hermione.

"Would you like to take a look at the fairy grove?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Fairy grove?" Hermione repeated curiously.

"The teachers have enchanted the little courtyard," Harry explained, pointing toward the door.

Hermione turned her head, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded. "Yes, I'd like to take a look." Her heels clicked and her arm linked herself onto Harry'S.

It turned out to be one of Harry's better ideas. The yard was nice to look at. The evergreen hedges offered a hideout to enchanted fairies. Glistening and glittering, the little creatures flitted through the leaves. Smells of exotic flowers wafted through the air. In some areas, trees merrily sang Christmas carols. In other places, there was a permanent sparkle in the air. In addition to that, there was a warming spell over the entire area, so that no one caught a cold.

The hedges were arranged in the form of a labyrinth. It was a simple maze, but it still branched out enough so one could be alone with his companion. Harry took advantage to waste a serious amount of time. The witch at his side appeared to take no notice. She used revealing charms and cast analytical spells at various sorceries and enchantments.

Harry was surprised how long he was able to walk around with Hermione. Unintentionally they wandered into two other students. Anthony Goldstein and one of the Patil twins had retreated into a dead end.

"Hey, that is our ..." Anthony began but stopped mid-sentence when he recognized Hermione.

"Sorry!" squealed the Patil witch at Anthony's side.

And before either Harry or Hermione could have said one word, the couple rushed past them. They could not have vanished faster even if they had used Apparition.

Hermione and Harry were left behind in awkward silence. Hermione stared at Harry calculatingly while he tried to evade eye contact with her.

A cold voice said just around the corner said, "Twenty points from Ravenclaw." It sounded very pleased and sadly familiar. "Get lost!"

Harry steeled his features just before Snape made his appearance. "Let's see, whom I have stumbled upon?" The potions master's features twisted into a thin smile. Mockingly he answered his own question, "Potter and Granger. Our new poster couple from Gryffindor."

"Good evening Professor," Hermione replied absolutely neutral.

Harry bit his tongue.

The Head of House Slytherin tried to stare them down, but he failed. With a tone of loathing, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Getting some fresh air," Hermione explained.

Snape's eye twitched. It was obvious what he wanted to do. But he found no reason to deduce points. And for some reason, he did not dare to make something up. "By all means, don't let me bother you."

Hermione gave a soft pull to Harry's arm. The couple turned back to the Great Hall.

Snape snarled a farewell, "While you are at it, Granger, teach Potter something about potions!"

When they returned to the Yule Ball, the celebration was slowly wrapping up. The three headmasters and the representatives of the Ministry of Magic had already retired. The ranks of students had visibly thinned out.

As he looked around, Harry realized two things. First, Ron had already left. Second, Cho was still there. "One last dance?"

Hermione nodded. "Gladly."

In the end, they lingered for three additional dances. The first one did not count since the music was halfway over when they started and the second one was rather dull.

Pleasantly exhausted, the couple made their way back to their common room. They stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who looked at them expectantly. Harry searched his mind for something to say, "That was a beautiful evening."

"Yes, I think so too," Hermione confirmed.

The two of them stared at each other for a very long moment. Finally, Hermione left her companion behind. She disappeared with a short "Thank you!"

With a disapproving scowl on her face, the Fat Lady swung open a second time. Harry entered and climbed the steps to his dormitory in confusion. He felt like he had missed something. The young wizard tried to understand how he felt while getting ready for bed.

He brushed his teeth and reminisced about the Yule Ball. He had neither made a fool of himself or Hermione. She hadn't hexed him out of anger or embarrassment. He could hardly believe that the evening had run so smoothly. He had also learned from Fleur how to open the Golden Egg.

Still, something was bugging Harry as he climbed into his four-poster bed. He briefly considered waking up Ron, who was snoring loudly. Another opinion would have been helpful. But somehow Harry doubted that his friend would help clear up his thoughts. In the end, he postponed his musings, in favor of following Ron's lead into dreamland.


	6. Home, Sweet Home

Home, Sweet Home

* * *

The three Grangers reunited in the afternoon of the day before Christmas Eve. Emma and Dan fetched their only child from King's Cross Station. Hermione was exhausted magically, mentally and physically. Therefore she was of the mind, that it bordered on torture when her parents dragged her through overrun shops in London.

Finally done with last minute shopping, Hermione sighed contentedly, upon sinking into the soft cushioning in the rear of her parents' car. The young witch would have liked nothing better, than taking a nap. When they were stuck in traffic, she closed her eyes to doze off.

Alas, it was not to be. Dan glanced curiously into the rear mirror, "So what was the Yule Ball like?"

His only daughter thought, that it had to be her father. He was the nosy one. Aloud, Hermione said, "It was nice."

"Nice. A description bubbling with details." her mother commented acerbically. She did not turn around, as she tried to stare a red traffic light into changing its color.

"Emma." her husband sighed. "Nice is a good thing. I'm quite certain, a lot of things happened and Hermione just doesn't know where to start." He turned around to his daughter, as they were standing still anyway. He smiled encouragingly at her, "Just start at the beginning. How did everyone like your dress?"

"Dan! Eyes on the road." Emma said as he did not drive when he could have.

"Relax. This'll take some time." Dan tried to soothe his wife. "It's not like we'll be home later because we got overtaken by that red convertible. So Hermione – your dress?"

"Everybody thought I looked beautiful," Hermione answered reservedly.

"Really?" His father asked eagerly. "Who said so?"

"Their stares said so," Hermione told her father.

"They stared?" Her father asked glumly.

Emma huffed. "She is telling you, that the girls were envious and the boys were … boys."

His wife's hesitation could have become awkward, but Dan said brightly, "She got her looks from you." Even though it was a rather dull compliment, his wife's face lighted up with a smile.

Hermione could not blame her mother for falling for it. Her father meant what he said after all.

"So nobody told you to the face that you looked beautiful?" Dan asked a little bit indignant.

Hermione hesitated. "Actually, one did. Harry told me."

Dan seemed to be very pleased with this revelation. "So what else happened? Did you dance?"

"We had to." Hermione sighed. This jam and nothing to do. The combination meant she would have to answer a lot of questions. "Harry had to open the Ball with a waltz."

"So it was only you and him." Her father mused aloud.

"We were not alone." Hermione hastened to clear up. "Besides the two of us, there were three other champions and they were accompanied by their dates too."

Her father did not falter in his pursuit. "How long did you dance?"

"Only one dance. The dance floor became crowded." Hermione did not even dare to guess how many questions were yet to be asked.

"Oh." Dan deflated visibly. "And did you dance with someone else?"

Hermione had it not in her to disappoint her father, so she told him the truth, "Roger Davies."

As they had started moving once more, Emma took it upon herself to ask, "And what is Roger like?"

"He is as talentless as he is spineless." Hermione judged the boy harshly.

They had to stop at another traffic light. Dan asked crestfallen, "So you danced twice in total?"

Hermione sighed deeply. Why was it so hard to let her father down? "No, Harry asked me for a few other dances."

"A few dances?" Emma intervened once more.

"Maybe a dozen." Hermione sighed in aggravation. Could she have placed a bet, who would speak up next, she would have done so.

"A dozen?" Dan hastened to ask.

"The exact number depends on the question, whether you want to count the two dances we participated only halfway through," Hermione informed her parents in a distant manner.

"And what else did you do?" There was an unusual pronunciation in Dan's voice.

Hermione noticed it, but she did not understand what her father was aiming for. "What do you mean? What else?"

Emma Granger rolled her eyes. "Did the two of you kiss?"

"No?" Hermione nearly gaped at her parents.

"Pity." Her mother mumbled quietly.

Her father's eagerness was not broken. "So you did nothing but dance all evening?"

"No. We did not dance all evening." Hermione folded her arms defensively. "We talked. And we went out into the enchanted rose garden. And when two of the other champions were gone, we left as well."

"So you spent nearly all of your evening together?" Dan drilled for more information.

"That is, what I said," Hermione answered tersely.

Her father summarized eagerly, "You had a dozen dances, you talked, you two went outside into a rose garden! – Alone? - And he walked you back to your dorm?"

"Right," Hermione said, hoping her father would finally get to the point.

"How can you be so naïve?" Hermione was certain, her mother was rolling her eyes, even though she only saw the back of her head.

"Whatever do you want?" Hermione asked.

"Your mom is implying, that Harry wanted to kiss you," Dan revealed to his only daughter.

"But he chickened out." Her mother added shaking her head in disapproval.

"He did not!" Hermione objected irately.

"So, he kissed you after all?" Emma turned around. Her eyebrows were pulled-up.

"No! It was not his intention to … you know what!" Hermione sputtered.

"He wanted to." Her father said with a sigh. "Why else would he have tried to be alone with you that often?"

"He was not trying to be alone with me!" Hermione argued fiercely.

"Really?" Her mother asked disbelievingly. "He did a magnificent job for not trying."

Hermione crossed her arms and stared out of the side window demonstratively.

"Can you imagine, Dan?" Emma pronounced her husbands name overly. "It was all a coincidence! Imagine, Dan, the two of them were alone that often just by chance!"

The man in question sighed deeply. Sometimes it was really hard to be the fluffy stuff between two hard-headed women. He chose to not take a go at his wives approach. He glanced at the rear mirror, "Escorting a girl to her door carries a certain significance."

Hermione took in a sharp breath. "Harry has not escorted me. We just so happen to be both Gryffindors. Therefore, our dorms are both in Gryffindor tower. That was the reason we had the same way."

"You left the party together," Emma commented dryly.

Her daughter answered, "Twist the facts any way you like to!"

When they finally arrived home, Hermione felt even more knackered. They had eaten something before their last-minute shopping spree, so she chose to retreat for the night. Her lights had just been turned off and her head was about to hit her cushion when there was a knock on her door – not a silent one but a firm one.

Hermione fluffed up her pillow by boxing it hard. She grumbled, "What is it, mom?"

Hermione's door was opened and Emma entered. She left the door open, so light from the hallway fell into her daughter's room in a rectangular shape.

"I've not said: Come in," Hermione whined.

"I know," answered Emma and settled on the bed. She was a silhouette against the light.

Hermione realized, that she, on the other hand, was completely visible. She huffed, "I'd like to go to sleep."

Emma ignored the teenager's mood. She was looking at the hallway. "I don't want your father to overhear us."

Hermione hesitated, her curiosity was spiked. "Overhear what?"

Instead of answering, Emma asked, "What will you do?"

"What will I do about what?" Hermione bounced the question back in confusion.

"About that boy." Emma clarified.

"I am not intending to do anything about Harry," Hermione answered testily.

That statement made Emma fall silent. Hermione could only think: If her mother left now – and closed the door – she could finally snatch some sleep.

Emma had no intention of leaving. She was just mulling over, how to approach the subject. "Despite your impression, I'm certain, that Harry is interested in you."

Hermione had enough of this discussion. "I was there. You were not. He is not."

"He was. He chickened out." Emma answered in the same manner. Before her daughter could object once more, she went on, "And even if not, you could get him. Just give him a hint that you are interested."

"I. Am. Not. Interested." Hermione pronounced each word.

Emma shocked her daughter with her next statement, "So what? Get yourself a boyfriend for the rest of the year."

"But I don't even like him!" Hermione protested.

"But you don't loathe him either," Emma told her daughter. She fell silent like she was done speaking. However, before her daughter could repeat her denial once more, Emma chose to do some frank talking, "I know you dislike the other children because they mock you. For your teeth, for your hair and because of your attitude regarding books. Do you really think, we don't know about your problems just because you stopped mentioning them at the end of your first year?" Emma could see the surprise on her daughter's face. "Harry is obviously not making fun of you. Could it hurt you to seriously consider, making him your trial boyfriend? Experiment a little bit! Learn to kiss! Have fun!"

"Mom!" Hermione yelped scandalized.

"Seriously. It's an opportunity. Why not? And don't argue with me, that you don't like him." Emma shot the most obvious objection down. "You got along for an entire evening."

"What about love?"

"Don't be daft." Emma turned around and looked her daughter straight into the eyes. "You are fifteen. So don't act like you are a preschooler. Kissing a boy does not mean, that you'll marry him and live happily ever after. You don't know Harry, you can't be in love with him."

Rebuked, Hermione kept her silence.

"Okay, listen. If you are revolted by him, don't even try. And if kissing him is no fun at all, don't force yourself. I'm not trying to marry you off or something! On the contrary!" Emma said sharply. She evened her voice to a smooth tone, "Just kiss him once. If it's okay, try to be his not overly committed girlfriend. Sit next to him during some meals. Talk to him, when the occasion arises. Kiss him a few times a day. And that is all. Don't alter your life for him. Just socialize a little. Just a trial. For a single week. For me? For your dad!"

Hermione grumbled into her cushion, "Will you leave me alone if I agree to sleep over it."

"No. I have more advice to give." Emma informed her daughter in high spirits. She knew when she had won. Everybody knew. Her mother was a bad winner.

Hermione groaned audibly.

"Unless you accept my proposal, I'll never get around of giving my advice and you, in turn, will never go to sleep."

"Sleep deprivation is torture!" Hermione tossed in melodramatically.

Emma laughed. "Don't expect the UN to send Blue Helmets."

Hermione forfeited, "Get to the point. What do you want to say?"

"Sometimes a girl has to take the initiative," Emma said. "We are always doing it. Men just don't realize it. However, sometimes showing availability and little hints are not enough."

"So you want me to hint more obviously?" Hermione requested. "Like … with a love letter?"

Emma shook her head to indicate the negative. "I think: Harry wanted to kiss you. He lost his nerve. So..." Emma's voice faded out.

Hermione had no idea at what her mother was aiming at. "So what?"

Emma shrugged her shoulders. "Just kiss him yourself."

Hermione nearly shied away from her follow-up question, but she was a Gryffindor for a reason. "Is that a word of advice gained through experience?" Her voice was shaky when she added one single word, "Dad?"

"That trick always worked wonders for me. And yes, your dad too." Emma informed her daughter. "Just watch out that Harry doesn't get the idea, you're easy to get. That is, where experience is really handy. But most of the time, men act obviously. So you should be fine."

* * *

A/N: This chapter has seen no beta-reading. It was originally suggested by ctc1000, who has done the beta-reading for chapters 2-5. I would like to use this chance and thank him publically. I guess I am once more in search of a beta-reader?


	7. Riddle's Resolution

Riddle's Resolution

* * *

Hogwarts' students had a hard time. Their two weeks of Christmas holidays had passed way to fast.

Neville, Ron, and Harry were dragging their feet up to the Gryffindor's common room. The first day of classes after a holiday was always hard. For Neville, it had been even harder, since he had opted for riding home over Christmas.

"You should have stayed at Hogwarts." Ron quoted himself.

Neville sighed, "I had no say in it. My Grandma decided, that I would celebrate Christmas at home."

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Just saying, you could have spared you one nasty ride on the train."

Harry intervened on Neville's behalf, "Ron, how was anyone supposed to know, that a snowstorm would elongate their train ride from an eight hour trip to eighteen hours?"

Ron fell quiet for a while. "Trelawny could have foreseen it!"

His friends had a good laugh at that one.

It was then, that Hermione came over them, like a hawk upon its prey. Neville, Ron, and Harry looked all equally startled when the witch came out of a secondary corridor. "I would like to exchange some words with Harry." When Neville and Ron stared dumbstruck at the witch, she added, "In privacy."

Hermione's gaze wandered between Ron and Neville. Since there was no room for misinterpretation left, both boys started to back off.

"See you." Ron waved halfheartedly.

Neville mumbled an unintelligible farewell.

Harry looked at the young witch. Her hair was back to bushy. But somehow, she did still look pretty and not exhausted at all. Even though she had been on the train as well.

Since Harry was – like always – out of neat and creative lines, he settled for the lame and polite course, "How were your holidays?"

Hermione crinkled her nose upon remembering, how she had been grilled by her parents. "It was kind of okayish. What about you?"

"Same for me." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "We were stuck in the castle, thanks to that snowstorm. How was it in...?" The wizard came to a standstill when he tried to remember, where Hermione came from. He knew where Seamus, Dean, Neville and obviously Ron lived. Feeling kind of sheepish he asked, "Where do you come from?"

"Aylesbury," Hermione answered looking straight into Harry's face. "That is a small town between Oxford and London."

Lacking options, Harry pushed their very boring conversation forward, "What was the Weather like in Aylesbury?"

"It did snow for a few hours on boxing day," Hermione informed the wizard and added dryly. "So naturally traffic did collapse and we were lucky to not starve to death in our very own home."

"That's something that could actually happen to my cousin and uncle," Harry mumbled darkly.

Hermione lifted a questioning eyebrow. But before she could ask, Harry choose to change the topic, "You got any remarkable presents?"

The witch thought the question over, before answering. "Books, but you would call none of them remarkable." Hermione snorted, "Like the Monster Book of Monsters. What about you?"

"Dungbombs. Some sweets. A jumper with a dragon on it. Socks and … stuff." Harry had the distinct feeling he should not tell Hermione of the magical penknife, he had received from Sirius. Just to keep the silence away, he asked, "Name me a title of one of your new books."

For whatever reason, he did not know, but that question earned Harry a guarded look. Hermione visibly pondered her answer, but finally said, "Theory of Inhuman Magical fields."

Harry pulled a face. "For which class is that book?"

"None. It is for my private amusement." The witch answered curtly. She choose that moment to change the topic of her own, "Did Fleur's hint help you out?"

Harry nodded vehemently, "Definitely! Ron and I submerged the Golden Egg in a bathtub. Turns out, that the screeching becomes a song, while the egg is underwater!"

"A song?" Hermione asked incredulously. Like every other Gryffindor, she had heard the sounds emitted from the Golden Egg when it was opened the first time.

"I know it's hard to believe, but the song has, in fact, a nice melody." Harry went forward with his explanation. "It's soothing."

Hermione could hardly believe that, "Really?"

"Really!" Harry persisted. "If you're interested - I could lend the egg to you."

Hermione was very tempted. "I may come back to that offer. For the moment it would sate my curiosity, if you told me, what the song was about."

"It's somewhat straightforward," Harry announced. "Something will be stolen from me and I'll have to get it back over the course of a single hour or I won't get it back."

"That is all?" Hermione's stare was very disapproving.

"Yes … No, it's not. The egg hints, that the getting back will have to be completed under water." Harry saw Hermione's frown become even more prominent. "I wrote the text of the song down." Harry stopped walking and took his the satchel off. He rummaged through its contents and finally pulled out a worn down piece of parchment.

Hermione snatched it out of Harry's hand. He watched her brown eyes rush over the lines of the song. He noticed her bushy hair bob when she nodded softly in regard to the conclusions he had noted next to the song's lines. "That seems about right."

"So you think, the task will be held inside of the lake?"

"That is a reasonable assumption."

"You think, I'll have to dive into the lake." Harry sighed dreadfully.

"Indeed." Hermione lifted a brow as Harry performed a minor deed in chivalry. He held the door to the library open.

After an awkward moment, Hermione said, "Thank you."

"So basically I've to learn how to hold my breath for an hour," Harry grumbled, as Hermione passed by him.

"Sure, you could try that," Hermione answered mockingly. "But maybe you should aim for growing yourself some gills."

Harry glowered at Hermione's retreating back. After releasing the door handle he hurried to her side, saying in an excited way, "You did not mean that in an ironic way!"

"No." Hermione blinked. "And no, since it would have been sarcastic, as I made fun of you."

"Whatever." Harry hurried to stop this particular lecture. "I meant, that you meant, I should really grow myself some gills!"

"That would be an option," Hermione confirmed.

"So you know a spell, that can grow me gills?"

"No. Or better said: Not yet." Hermione made a gesture, which engulfed numerous shelves of the library. "The answers for your problems can be found somewhere here."

"Where should I start looking?" Harry requested and grabbed the closest book. It was labeled, "Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties."

"Do not waste your time with a book about Herbology!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you want some gills, you will have to search the shelves about Transfiguration! Or maybe Charms. There might be even a potion. But Herbology will not help you with this."

"Okay." Harry put the book back.

"Having gills would solve your first problem."

"One moment." Harry stared at Hermione. "First? Is there another problem?"

"Is it not obvious?"

Harry thought everything over. "Not that I can see."

"You will have to dive through the Great Lake. For an hour. In February."

Harry scrunched his nose up, "Yeah, that's where gills would come in handy."

After a deep calming breath Hermione revealed, "The water will be freezing cold!"

Harry's eyes went wide and he gasped, "I'd not thought of that!"

"And how are you supposed to find anything in the Great Lake?"

"You're right! It's huge. And who knows how deep it is?"

"And have you ever tried to swim for a full hour? It is no less taxing than running for the same time."

Harry paled just a little bit, "So I need to learn four charms?"

"You could always increase your stamina via sports."

"I am playing Quidditch," Harry argued.

One of Hermione's eyebrows rose at a glacial pace. "There are always potions. They could give you an edge."

"Okay, so I need to learn three charms."

Hermione gave a decisive nod. "Let us search for a spell that keeps you warm."

"Shouldn't we start with the one, that'll allow me to breathe underwater? It sounds more important to me."

"It is," Hermione confirmed.

Harry watched Hermione. She was reading the titles of books' spines. He objected, "Those are about warmth."

"Thank you for telling me." Hermione scoffed. "You will start learning the charm that keeps you warm because it is easier to locate. I have only a very vague idea, where to find a spell, that will give you gills."

They went over two dozen books dedicated to staying warm. Wizards liked the lush life and they most definitely disliked being cold! Harry had no chance at keeping up with Hermione's operating speed. He managed to check only three books and even those were double checked by the witch. He did not dare to reciprocate this.

Once it became obvious, that Hermione was working alone, Harry settled for being her sidekick. He carried books around and noted side numbers and bullet points.

Most the time Hermione skimmed registries. Only after going over half of the books did she actually bother to check one of the spells. Mostly she read descriptions. Overall she studied only five magical formulas and their corresponding wand movements.

The task was finished in roundabout one hour. Hermione pushed one book in front of Harry and pointed at the charm she had chosen.

The young wizard was impressed. Hermione had chosen a spell which appeared to be made for his upcoming situation. It had a short incantation, an easy wand movement and it seemed to be powerful enough to keep him warm in freezing water.

"It would be best if you started practicing today," Hermione announced.

"You're probably right." Harry marked the page. He raised from his chair and placed it carefully back under the table. "So you'll keep on searching for a transfiguration or spell, that allows me to breathe underwater?"

"Or a charm," Hermione added. She had stood up as well.

"Thank you. I don't know, what I would be doing without you."

"Well..." Hermione said and before Harry knew what hit him, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips.

„That was not, what I was aiming for." Hermione frowned.

Harry felt as though both he and time had frozen. He had not moved at all when Hermione placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him once more.

This time she was not aiming for a simple peck onto his lips though. Harry felt her soft lips move and out of some sort of reflex or a subliminal decision he did the same. A tongue licked at his bottom lip and without thinking about it he mirrored it.

When they parted from their second kiss, significantly more time had passed and there was a gleam in Hermione's eyes. She radiated pure happiness. Harry was reminded of the Yule Ball. It was so different from her usual demeanor, but it suited her so well.

"Well, that was way better." Hermione beamed. "We will have to work on that part, but for now I will be busy. Off you go!"

Moments later Harry left the library rather stiffly. He was not sure what exactly had happened just now.


	8. Friendly Interrogation

Friendly Interrogation

* * *

Divination was one of Harry's least favorite classes. Only potions was even more awful in his opinion. Both subjects had a teacher in common who singled him out constantly. His friend Ron disliked both classes nearly as much. Therefore, it was no surprise that the two of them never got anything done whenever they sat down together for homework. Harry had opted to give Neville a try as study partner. His plan had not panned out so far.

A cough from Neville interrupted Harry's listless doodling.

Harry looked up self-consciously. "Is something up?"

"So... you and Hermione are..." Neville's hands made some awkward gestures. "... together?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. "Yeah."

Neville kept on showing his nervousness by stuttering: "Li-like a couple?"

Harry frowned. He had not yet talked with Hermione about their relationship. "I think so."

"So do you..." A loud thud disturbed Neville.

Ron had announced his arrival by roughly depositing his satchel onto the table. He sat down with a grunt and looked at the two other boys. "What are you talking about?"

Neville was peeved enough about the interruption to answer bluntly: "I was asking Harry about his relationship to Hermione."

Ron turned to Harry: "That is something I wanted to talk to you about too!"

"Really?" Harry asked surprised.

"Yes!" Ron nodded vehemently. "Mate, I know Hermione is scary. She surprised you and everything but you have to break up with her!"

"I have to?" Harry echoed disbelievingly.

"Mate you can't be serious! You can't like her!" Ron exclaimed. "All the problems we had with her! Just remember, when she cursed our quills to write insults? It got us three weeks of detention! With Snape!" Ron squealed the last part.

"We had that one coming. We insulted her first." Harry thought in retrospective that it had been one of his weakest hours, when he stood by, while Ron mouthed those mean words. He had been like one of Dudley's companions. He had never said it, but he had felt like he had deserved that detention.

Ron dismissed Harry's argument: "Those were only words!"

"Technically," Neville stretched the word thoughtfully. "the insults you wrote in your potions essays were only words too."

"I did not make things up!" Ron had the presence of mind to look around if Hermione was in the Common Room. "It is not my fault if the truth hurts her. She has bushy hair. And she is a know-it-all!"

Harry wanted to object but found himself getting stopped from defending his girlfriend very effectively by none other than Neville.

"Technically," Neville once more elongated the word. "she only made you write the truth. It is not her fault if the truth bothers Snape. He is a greasy git."

"You are comparing apples to oranges!" Ron gaped at Neville. "I was suffering through five evenings of detention!"

For some reason the usually shy Gryffindor was not caving in today. He added reproachfully: "Parvati said you made Hermione cry!"

Ron argued hotly: "I felt like crying too! Five times!"

It was in this instant that the cast of their dormitory was completed by the arrival of two additional boys. Dean placed a hand in mock-sympathy on Ron's shoulder: "Which of your many crying fits are we talking about today?"

Harry and Neville sniggered about the compassionate face Dean made.

Ron brushed the offending hand off. He glared at the other boy: "I. Did. Not! Cry." Dean had already opened his mouth to disagree but Ron cut him short: "This is none of your business anyway. Get lost!"

Dean acted like he was thinking Ron's demand over. "Nah, I don't feel like it."

"What are you talking about?" Seamus asked curiously.

Neville smirked. "Ron's numerous mishaps."

"Count us in!" Seamus said excitedly. He said down next to Harry. "I think this going to become entertaining. Do you remember the time Ron's hair was transfigured?"

Dean pulled another chair to the table. "Which one? The time he looked like a freckled Malfoy or the other time he was imitating Snape?"

"I was not imitating Snape!" Ron snapped.

"Man, you were all ill-tempered and swooped around. You were a smaller version of Snape!" Dean stated firmly making the other three boys laugh.

Ron turned red in anger. "That dumb haircut got me detention with McGonagall for missing all of Snape's classes."

Neville was laughing especially hard. "Technically, you got detention for skipping classes not for the haircut."

This earned Ron another round of laughter. He snapped: "What choice did I have? I could not go to potions looking like that, could I?"

"Stuck between a hard place and Snape's detention!" Seamus quipped.

Dean gaped at his friend: "That is like the lamest wordplay ever!"

"Come on it was not half bad." Seamus talked back.

"You are right." Dean nodded fiercely. "It was not half bad it was abysmally bad!"

"Lets get back on track." Neville tossed in.

"Yeah!" Dean nodded eagerly. "Times Ron got cursed by Hermione."

"Lets make a Top Ten!" Seamus suggested enthusiastically.

Dean kept on nodding. "My favorite is still the time, she messed his eye-hand coordination up!"

Seamus started laughing: "That one was glorious! Ron was smearing his face with food so badly!"

Dean was grinning from ear to ear. "Do you remember when Ron smashed his face into that bowl of Shepherd's Pie?"

"That was not funny at all!" Ron snapped irritated. "I lost ten pounds that week!"

Dean nodded knowingly. He said in a grave tone: "It is not funny at all! Ron has not overcome the curse up to this day. He still smears his face whenever he is eating!"

The boys except for Ron were one more laughing.

Once the laughter lessened Seamus added: "And he knocked over so many inkwells!" Once more the Irish boy was the only one laughing about on of his jokes.

Ron hammered his fist onto the table. "Shut up! The topic is: Why Harry should break up with Hermione!"

Dean scratched his head doubtfully: "Why should he?"

"Because she is a bossy know-it-all!" Ron retorted.

"She is clever and has a strong personality." Seamus voiced his opinion. "So what?"

Ron hissed: "She is mean!"

"If you provoke her." Dean said. "Leave her alone and she leaves you alone. I never had a problem with her."

Seamus nodded. "To live and let live."

Somehow, Ron failed to notice that he was alone with his opinion. "And she is ugly! Bushy hair and bucktoothed!"

"What's wrong with you?" Seamus asked.

"Maybe he has gone blind!" Dean exclaimed exasperatedly. "Did you not notice that Hermione is a real cutie? Have you not seen her on the Yule Ball? Sorry Harry... but damn! She can look hot if she wants to. I would take her as my girlfriend instantly!"

Seamus stared at his best mate disapprovingly: "I was about to say, that inner qualities are more important than looks."

"So you do not think Hermione is good looking?" Dean asked in surprise.

"She is." Seamus conceded. "But that is not important. Looks are additional. What are good looks good for if a girl is a spiteful bitch?"

Ron tried to reenter the discussion at this point: "Hermione is a ..."

"No, she is not!" Harry interrupted his friend harshly. "She is avid for revenge. Dean and Seamus are right. She leaves you alone if you leave her alone. You of all people should know that by now."

Ron was about to reply, but was interrupted once more.

"One moment!" Dean cut the redheads reply off. "Ron? Are you envious of Harry because he has a girlfriend while you've got none?"

"No!" Ron cried out defensively.

"You sure?" Seamus asked suspiciously.

"Yes, I am!" Ron tried to glare at all of his friends at the same time.

"I am not convinced." Dean glanced at his Irish friend. "Are you convinced Seamus?"

Seamus shook his head. "Not in the slightest."

"That is not true! And I don't have to listen to this hogwash!" Ron literary jumped of his chair. He grabbed his satchel and the Wizard's Chess set, he had pulled out of it. He had he stormed off before anyone could have said something.

The remaining four boys stared after him.

Harry broke the thoughtful silence. "Do you really think Ron is envious?"

Seamus looked at Dean who shrugged his shoulders. "Hard to tell."

After a short while Neville said: "I don't think so. He really dislikes Hermione."

"Well obviously he is not interested in Hermione. Maybe there is another girl he likes?" Seamus suggested.

"And whom?" asked Dean.

"Maybe Fleur Delacour?" Seamus tried to pronounce the name correctly but he failed due to his thick accent.

Dean frowned. "Mate we all like to look at her, but she is seventeen."

"And?" Seamus asked.

"She would only take notice of us if we were Unicorn-Animagi." Dean stated matter-of-factly.

"You would like to be an Unicorn-Animagus?" Seamus requested.

"Sure! I would have my pick of the witches." Dean answered smugly. "All girls swoon over Unicorns!"

"I would prefer to be a Phoenix!" Seamus stated firmly.

This started a long winded discussion about Animagi. All four boys argued back and forth which would be the coolest, most useful and overall best creature on could turn into. When Dean and Seamus left Harry and Neville to their homework, nearly half an hour had passed. Ron had not reappeared.

Neville looked up from his ten inches about Saturn's influence on their lives. "Harry, can I ask you something?"

"Seriously, Neville I have no clue!" Harry spread his hands helplessly. "I think if I made predictions up they could not be any more wrong than what I have written down so far!"

"It is not about divination." Neville said: "Believe me, I am very well aware of the fact that you are even worse at divination than I am."

"Oh... okay." Harry messed his hair up. "What's your question?"

Neville looked soberly at his year mate: "What is it like to be in love?"

Harry went beet red. He hesitated for the longest time. "I am not sure that I am in love."

"What? You are not sure?" Neville asked in surprise. "Isn't Hermione your girlfriend?"

Harry nodded. "She is."

Neville frowned in confusion. "Are you not supposed to be... you know... in love with the girl that is your girlfriend?"

"If you ask me like that. I feel compelled to answer: Yes." Harry said.

"But you are not in love with her?" Neville inquired.

Harry thought his next words over carefully. "It is a little bit early to say that I love her. You are supposed to marry the woman you love. But nobody marries at fourteen. I mean that would be just dumb."

"I guess that's true." Neville conceded.

"So maybe I just like her." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I think that is enough for the moment. And I think this matter does not get better if you think to much about it."

Neville hummed: "Maybe you are right."

* * *

A/N: I had major problems with this chapter and the next one. It had a mean tendency to sound to serious. I have rewritten this more times than I want to admit... Neville feels kind of OOC to me because he is quite confident. On the other hand... this is in character for him when I think about him confronting Hermione, Harry and Ron in the first book...


	9. Knowledgeable Routine

Knowledgeable Routine

* * *

Harry found Hermione in the library. He was not surprised at all. It was kind of cliche of her that she was devouring a book. She was immersed in a text about magical imbuing... whatever that meant.

...

Hermione heard him coming closer. His steps were easily discernible on the marble floor of the peaceful library. However, she did not react when Harry approached her. Most people thought that she paid no attention to her surroundings while reading. It was a misconception she encouraged actively. She did only look up when he coughed to announce himself: "Good morning Hermione!"

Hermione smiled at her boyfriend and responded: "Good morning Harry!" She raised her head and he bend down so they could share a chaste hello kiss. "Is it already time for classes?"

"Yep! First hour is about to start in a quarter-hour." Harry grinned like he had cracked a fine joke.

Hermione frowned at her boyfriend. "What about that was supposed to be funny?"

"The part about the hour … never mind!" He held out a napkin. "I fetched you two croissants."

The food was accepted with a smile. "Thank you! That is sweet of you!" It was nearly the same line Hermione's mother used enthusiastically on her father whenever he did something which she deemed beneficial.

Hermione had become aware of the concept of positive reinforcement when she had read her first popular science book about psychology. She had been nine back than and had confronted her mother about her use of it on her father and herself. Hermione had been quite offended back than. Emma Granger had only smiled despite the verbal onslaught of her daughter. Probably because she had been so cute, stomping her foot and gesturing energetically.

Once Hermione had completely vented, her mother had asked what the problem was if everyone was happy. They had argued back and forth. Long story short: It had been the last time Hermione had started a discussion with her mother without thinking the thing through in advance. Her arguments had been crushed so thorough that she had adopted her mother's point of view.

Harry escorted Hermione to their first class while she ate her breakfast. Two seats in the first row had been left empty by their classmates.

Professor Flitwick's lesson held little new theoretical knowledge for Hermione. She had already internalized not only the course book but everything on his recommendation list for the year. The thing she was really waiting for was the practical part of his lesson. In the meantime she answered all of his questions in a lengthy manner to counter-check that she had really understood the theory. When the small man showed them the latest charm Hermione watched every little flick of his wand with utmost attention.

Naturally she was the first one to master this lecture. Professor Flitwick rewarded her some more points, which were always useful to keep her housemates happy and more importantly off her back once she had to retaliate against someone.

Once she had cast the spell two more times she turned to help Harry. He was a little bit dense today and failed to understand all of her explanations. Therefore Hermione switched to demonstrating the spell over and over again. This got the job done and he was the second one to master the spell.

Once Professor Flitwick had announced the end of his class, Hermione departed with a very willing Harry in tow. They left the chattering crowd behind them and found themselves a secluded corridor. It was a dead end. Therefore they should have been safe from accidental discovery. Nonetheless Hermione cast an additional repelling charm.

She had barely stowed her wand, when Harry pulled her close. Hermione's last thoughts for a while were that her boyfriend had grown quite fond of physical affection and her first thought afterwards was that he had become reasonably adept at kissing.

Nearly all of their break was spent when Hermione mumbled into Harry's ear: "We have to get going. We don not want to be late."

"You don't want to be late." Harry said cheekily. "I'd not mind at all."

"The problem is McGonagall would mind." Hermione pushed at Harry's chest. He obediently loosened his grip on her.

In her second class of the day Hermione listened closely to Professor McGonagall's lecture. She was prepared badly by her own standards. She had only read a single chapter ahead. The word read was the correct terminus in this case. Usually Hermione worked books through, made notes and looked skipped explanations up.

The witch was not enamored by Transfiguration. She valued it to a certain extent. It was obviously useful in a variety of situations, but it was also profane. Turning one thing into another offered the obvious usefulness of having nearly any object one could think of at hand.

However a lot of very useful things could not be created with Transfiguration as a number of restrictions hampered this magical field. One could not transfigure electrical knick-knacks. Such devices were too complicated to imagine therefore they unhinged the intent of the caster. Another restriction was the creation of life. One could not create a living creature through Transfiguration. If the result looked like it was alive, it did so thanks to an animation spell. And last but not least, the properties of transfigured objects diverted from those of their models. A transfigured sword was never as hard or sharp as a real sword and magical characteristics were not created at all. Therefore no ingredients for potions or hard to get materials like unicorn hair could be transfigured.

The main reason Hermione did not value Transfiguration was: There were close to no intersections with the aspects of magic the young witch was interested in. Transfiguration was a standalone arm of magic.

Once more Hermione found herself sitting in class and waiting for the same thing all other students were waiting for: McGonagall's demonstration. Hermione was of the opinion that being shown a transfiguration was way more effective than trying to figure it out through a text. It was quite another thing to see a rat become a cup than imagining its tail turning into a handle and three of its legs shrinking away while the fourth was turning into the stem.

The students exhausted themselves for the better part of an hour. When McGonagall dismissed them nobody had succeeded.

Again Hermione had noticed a lot of hidden stares from the old witch. She was quite certain her head of house was disappointed with her. It was for a mixture of reasons. Hermione had cursed more of McGonagall's cubs over the years than Slytherin's Snakes. She knew for certain because she had a tally chart. The other reason was even more personal: Hermione had lost her enthusiasm for Transfiguration which was a slight to McGonagall for multiple reasons on its own.

Hermione could have told the witch the exact moment this had happened. It had been back in second year. Her transfigured rooster had not been able to kill the basilisk. The simple reason had been: The rooster's crow had held no magical properties. It had just made a distinct sound.

The fact that Hermione still only had Os in her class was not missed by McGonagall. However Hermione did no more ask for additional texts, requested no explanations for exceptions of obscure principles and she had even lost interest in becoming an animagus. She had nagged McGonagall about this skill all the way through the first two years.

Harry was once more quite happy to leave a classroom behind in a hurry. Hermione had it not in her to disappoint Harry, who had come to the wrong conclusion about their hasty depature. Therefore the couple was a little bit late for lunch. Which was no problem at all, because there was no way anybody would leave the Great Hall hungry.

All meals at Hogwarts were feasts. They were not called that way but the amount and variety of food sang a different tune. Only traditional foods got served. But that was to be expected if you sat on a wooden bench in a building that was older than the genealogy of most royal dynasties.

Hermione helped herself to a decent amount of food, while Harry right next to her loaded his plate with a heap only a growing adult could handle. She did not look beyond Harry's plate because Ron sat next to him. His table manners were capable of ruining her appetite.

Left of Hermione sat Lavender Brown. The girl made a nervous attempts at chatting her up. "Why are you late for lunch?"

The bushy haired witch glared at her dorm mate. "Obviously, that is a private matter!"

Lavender's cheeks turned rosy and she stopped bothering Hermione, who in turn left for the library as soon as she was sated.

Half an hour later Hermione looked up from her book. She heard Harry approaching. He smiled hopefully. "Would you like to take a little walk?"

Hermione glanced at the text in front of her. "Give me a moment." The young wizard waited diligently for her to finish her paragraph.

Hermione placed her bookmark and put the tome on her table. Madam Pince would leave up to seven of them alone. Therefore she would be able to resume right where she left off.

Hermione crooked an eyebrow unwillingly once she saw that Harry offered her his hand to help her stand up. Hermione accepted. She was not surprised when Harry did not release her fingers once she stood.

Harry had led her down a number of hallways before he broke the comfortable silence: "What do you think about Viktor Krum?"

Hermione cocked her head in contemplation. "Could you be a little bit more precise?"

"How would you characterize him?"

Hermione hesitated. "I do not know. I have not spoken to him at all. I have seen him occasionally over the last months but I am quite certain, the same goes for you." Hermione looked at Harry, who in turn was looking at her. "What do you think of him?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure."

"Why are you asking?"

"I've seen Krum at the World Cup final. He's a very good Quidditch player. A professional sportsman. He's very concentrated and capable." Harry recounted his impressions. "So I wonder: Why is he in the tournament? He's already famous and rich. He could be playing Quidditch right now. Probably earning himself more than a thousand galleons."

Hermione considered Harry's words: "Maybe it is the challenge? Maybe he just wants to win? It is a very rare opportunity to win the Triwizard Tournament. There are a lot of people who play Quidditch. Maybe he wants to be special at all costs?"

Harry fell silent.

His girlfriend had a pretty good idea what he was thinking off. Harry had a rather straightforward personality. Being special was the last thing he wanted. He had thrown this into peoples faces at a number of emotional outbursts. The conclusion was not very hard to make: His fame reminded him of the death of his parents. And he probably felt guilty over it. Hermione was not willing to talk about any of this. She was really bad at comforting. This was definitely a problem for future-Hermione. Present-Hermione just held Harry's hand in silence.

After a few minutes the brunette witch heard Harry sigh deeply. He squeezed her hand and stopped brooding for the moment. A green eyes peered curiously: "You've seen Krum perform the First Task. Since I was the last contestant, I missed out on seeing anything of the other champions. Tell me about them, please."

Hermione nodded. "You are right. That is a major disadvantage."

"I heard a lot of things from Ron, Seamus and other Gryffindors. But I think, not one of them was very accurate in their retelling. I even read the Daily Prophet the next day but it spared only a few lines on describing the actual task."

"The Daily Prophet is not a very good newspaper any way." Hermione said in a disapproving tone. "They could be as good as news on TV thanks to the moving pictures. Maybe their photographers are not very good? Maybe it is because there is no competition and they only got a single newspaper? Anyway, wizarding society's journalistic standards leave a lot to be desired!"

"So..." Harry's hesitation made Hermione realize, that she had once more ranted aimlessly. "What do you think of Krum's performance?"

Hermione tried to make up for her rant by cutting straight to the chase of the matter. "Krum used the Conjunctivitis Curse. I think that was even written in the Daily Prophet?"

Harry confirmed this: "Yes, it was."

Hermione noted in satisfaction that her boyfriend had not chosen to nod or answer monosyllabic – this habit drove her nuts. "I think, this choice says a lot about him. The Conjunctivitis Curse is a minor curse. It is even one of the few reversible curses. But I think it is a statement if you choose a curse over a charm or a spell to achieve something. There are other means to temporarily blind a dragon. Maybe they do not differentiate between curses, spells and charms as strongly in Durmstrang as they do in our school." Hermione bit her tongue. She had slipped off topic once more!

"Dragons are not very sensitive creatures." Harry defended the other champion although he did it kind of reluctantly. "They're mostly immune to magic. Are you sure a spell or charm would have worked?"

"I know you fought a dragon as well." Hermione squeezed Harry's hand in sympathy. "But I looked it up. There are at least two spells and one charm, which would have had the same result. I think the Conjunctivitis Curse was chosen, because it does not only blind the subject but is very painful at the same time. Krum's dragon writhed in pain. That is how those eggs got crushed."

Harry was about to say something, but Hermione beat him to it: "Do not get me wrong! I will not stand for the one-sided line of reasoning, in which the loss of two dangerous creatures was bemoaned. First of all: Krum's life was in danger and he had every right to fight for it in any way he deemed sufficient. And second: It is solely the fault of the organizers of the Triwizard Tournament for bringing these creatures in. Especially if they are threatened with extinction."

"That's how I see it too!" Harry said happily.

Hermione knew that her boyfriend liked it when they were of the same opinion. It was something she herself did not care for in the slightest. Therefore the word: "But" left her lips easily. "Krum choose the curse deliberately. It was obvious, that this choice would endanger those eggs. He did not care. I am certain whenever he is under pressure, he will use any means he deems adequate without any regard for anyone around him. That was not a standalone decision made in the heat of the moment."

Harry thought this assessment over silently. His tone was thoughtful, when he offered Hermione another argument for her point of view: "At the World Cup Krum did a Wronski Feint."

"What is that?" Hermione asked curiously.

"It's a Quidditch term." Harry answered and thought over how to explain it adequately for someone who knew the rules of Quidditch but was not interested in it. "In many games one seeker shadows the other. It's a popular tactic used whenever you think the other seeker will be the one to spot the Golden Snitch first."

Hermione gave a nod in understanding.

"By doing so the hunt for the Golden Snitch gets reduced to a simple race. The Wronski Feint is a possible counter to this tactic. The first seeker will dive vertically at the ground, as if he has spotted the Golden Snitch. The second one will follow him without thinking about it because he's shadowing the first one. This vertical dive is called Wronski feint. It's done in hopes of the second seeker crashing into the ground which happens more often than one would think. But it's also considered a success, if the second seeker stops shadowing the first or his reaction at following after the feint slows down."

"And Krum did that at the World Cup?"

Harry nodded and said: "He did and the Irish seeker crashed." The designated Gryffindor Seeker added in a gravely tone: "Krum searched for the Golden Snitch while the Irishman got patched up."

Hermione did not even try to hide her satisfaction. "That sounds like I was right about him."


	10. The Second Task

The Second Task

* * *

The day of the Second Task saw a colorful sunrise. The clouds had taken a day off and a rich blue had taken their place. Birds sang their tunes. The resident post-owls tried to outdo them by hooting enthusiastically.

Harry saw his dormitory get brighter and he heard all the birds outside. He was unable to turn around and get a little bit more sleep. He knew it was not due to the light or the sound. He was unsettled.

His actual nervousness paled in comparison to the day of the First Task. After all he was well prepared for the second part of the Triwizard Tournament. He had mastered the necessary spells with a week to spare. And most importantly he was not to face off against some spell resistant magical beast. The thing that was irritating his rightful self-confidence the most was what he had failed at. He had not found out what would be taken from him.

Therefore the first thing he did was checking his most most cherished possessions. His Firebolt was where he had left it, the Cloak of Invisibility was still hidden in his trunk and the Marauder's Map was right next to it. He even came across the penknife Sirius had given to him for Christmas.

Once he was ready for the day. Harry rushed the stairs down into the common room. He went straight for a solitary armchair in the corner. On the windowsill next to it was a small collection of reference books. Nobody was there. Harry blinked in surprise. His girlfriend was supposed to sit in exactly that armchair and read some obscure text. He questioned some early risers bot none of them had seen Hermione.

The library was not open at this time of the day and as a male Harry could not check the girls dormitory. He settled for waiting impatiently.

Ron had barely set food into the common room, when he was asked by his best mate: "Have you seen Hermione?"

Ron scratched his head, turned around and looked upstairs. "She is not in our dorm."

"Where is she? She is always here, when I come downstairs! Nobody knows where she is." Harry said irritably.

Ron shrugged. "It is not like she would tell anybody, where she goes."

Harry had to admit, that Ron had a point.

"Maybe she was hungry and went to the Great Hall. Breakfast, you know?" Ron guessed.

"Maybe." Harry said doubtfully.

"Well lets go." Ron went for the exit.

There was no bushy haired witch at breakfast either. "Maybe she is in the library." Ron said. The word library was only recognizable due to the context - despite Ron's longstanding training in speaking with a full mouth.

Harry retained two croissants and a small jar of strawberry jam for Hermione. He went for the library. He had pieced together that Hermione may have done something somewhere outside the common room before she went to her favorite spot in the castle.

She was not to be found.

When Hermione was late for class, Harry was close to panic. Hermione was no fan of Herbology but she had never been late for any class! Harry sneaked over to her roommates. Parvati and Lavender were repotting the thistle they were supposed to care for. Thanks to the sharp prickles the two girls were anything but enthusiastic about this task. Harry whispered: "Where is Hermione?"

The two witches glanced at each other. Their eyebrows were moving and they made some small gestures at each other, while holding a nonverbal conversation. It was Lavender, who answered Harry's question: "We don't know."

Parvati informed Harry: "But her used clothes were on the foot of her bed, when I got up to take a shower this morning."

"All neatly folded!" Lavender added with a nod.

"Thanks." Harry felt a little bit calmer. He sneaked back to Ron, who was roughly stuffing their thistle into a pot. "Ron, we are supposed to put the plant into a bigger pot. Not another pot of the same size. What good is that supposed to do anyway?"

"Do I look, like I care?" The redhead shot back grumpily.

Once the bell announced the class' end, Harry sprinted to the library. "Have you seen Hermione?" he asked the still sleepy Madam Pince once more.

"She's not here." growled the librarian and pushed Harry out of her door. Her reasoning was worthy of Snape: "You are panting too loudly!"

Harry ran to the next class. He hoped Hermione would be there. Alas, she was not. Close to the end of this lesson Harry could barely sit still. A single thought was demanding all of his attention. Once he was free to leave he rushed back to his dorm.

Harry searched the Marauder's Map frantically. Try as he might the name of his girlfriend was not to be found. She was neither in one of her favorite places nor the Hospital Wing. Harry skipped his entire third lesson in search of her.

Once he was sure, that Hermione was nowhere to be found, he checked his possessions yet again. Everything was still in its place! "This can't be happening!"

As fast as possible Harry ran to Professor McGonagall's office. He did not even bother to knock. "Tell me it is not true!" he blurted out.

"Mister Potter, where are your manners?" The Transfiguration Professor looked irritably over the rim of her square spectacles.

"I..."

"It is considered polite to knock before entering a room. Especially the room of a witch!" With a huff the old witch added: "I could have been indecent."

Harry blanched upon that reprimand. This diversion worked only for a very short moment: "Is Hermione the thing I will dearly miss?"

McGonagall swished her wand. Her door fell shut with a loud bang. "Mister Potter, please watch the volume of your voice!"

"I am sorry." Harry grumbled. "But Hermione has been missing all morning! Is the Golden Egg's song implying that she is the thing I will dearly miss? Is she a hostage? You can't be serious! She is a human being. You can't use her as some sort of prize for the Triwizard Tournament!"

Professor McGonagall sighed deeply. She gestured for her young cub to take a seat across from her. "Harry, I am sure you are aware of the rules. No teacher is allowed to actively help any competitor of the Triwizard Tournament."

"But I..."

The Professor's voice rose in volume talking over whatever argument Harry wanted to present: "I understand, that you find yourself in great distress. But, please hear me out." McGonagall paused. It was apparent, that she was searching for the right words. Her face brightened up, when she found them: "You should not forget, that you are a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Dumbledore, a truly great wizard is your headmaster. He was the one to announce the Triwizard Tournament to the school. A Tournament that was already suspended once before because of a number of casualties."

Her next words were heavily emphasized: "The students' safety is the most important thing to Professor Dumbledore."

Harry frowned. "So, Hermione is not in danger?"

"Mister Potter." McGonagall smiled genuinely at him. "Like I said before, I am not allowed to help a champion with his or her task. However, as the Deputy Headmistress I am very happy to inform you on Hogwarts' policies regarding students."

Harry gave a deep sigh. "Thank you Professor."

"I am not sure why you are thanking me. But, you are welcome." McGonagall smiled benignly at Harry. "Are you done with preparing the Second Task?"

Harry spoke for about five minutes to Professor McGonagall. She excused him from the following class and told him, that she would talk to Professor Flitwick about his absence from the previous one.

A few hours later, Harry could not have cared any less for Ludo Bagman's speech. He was totally focused on the lake and the upcoming task. When the four Champions were finally requested to: "Get ready!" Harry discarded his cloak and stepped to the starting line, where he bent down and pulled swim fins over his feet. He was already wearing his swimming trunks. Hermione's parents had send both items upon their daughter's request via Hedwig to Hogwarts. Harry downed the endurance potion, which Hermione had brewed for him. He had no idea how he would have managed to prepare for this task without her help.

When Filch - of all people - started the task by firing a cannon, Harry cast the warming charm upon himself. He waded into the lake until the water was at his navel, then cast the Bubble-Head Charm.

Harry noticed the bubble form around his head. All sounds were significantly muted by the charm. He was ready. Harry plunged into the water. He instantly heard a familiar sound. The song of the Golden Egg was sung by a choir.

Very early in the task Harry was overtaken by Fleur. She was swimming significantly faster than him. The busy wizard had not cared for the other champions at the start. Therefore, he had no idea what Fleur had done. He could only guess that she had used some sort of human transfiguration. Her feet were elongated and she had very noticeable webbing between her fingers and toes. She was not using a Bubble-Head Charm either. Harry wondered if she had really dared to grow herself gills.

Fleur vanished in the murky water after a few moments. Harry found himself alone. Probably in front of the other two contestants. He was not sure since he could not look very far. He navigated the lake mostly by hearing and not by sight.

The Second Task turned out to be much easier than the First. Without the problem of locating Hermione it was rather simple to get to her. All Harry had to do was swim and at one point evade some grindylows, which was no problem at all, thanks to the swim fins and the supreme endurance caused by the potion.

After a quarter hour a number of rocks and colorful corals appeared out of the swirling darkness of the Black Lake. It was not a random formation. It was a sort of underwater village. Harry identified some swimming creatures as merpeople. He and Hermione had talked about them, since there had been a possibility to encounter them during the task. However, they had never considered, that they had an actual settlement inside the lake. They made no attempt at contesting him.

A lot of them had gathered at an empty area in the center of their village. They were the ones singing. In between them, Harry could see three blurred shapes in their marketplace - or whatever they used the square for normally.

When Harry came closer, the shapes turned into three girls. They were floating unconsciously. Harry's eyes were instantly drawn to Hermione, but he also recognized Cho Chang and Viktor Krum's date. All of them were restrained by brownish algae. He also noticed a big rock and some algae on the lake bed where a fourth person had been bound.

Harry swam over to the three remaining hostages. He pulled out his wand. The merpeople eyed him keenly. They neither raised their tridents nor spears.

He ignored Cho and the French witch, who had been escorted by Viktor to the Yule Ball. The merpeople were still watching him, but they did not intervene. They seemed to be relieved when Harry started to fumble at Hermione's bonds.

After a few moments Harry noticed that his efforts were in vain. The algae he had pulled away simply ensnared another part of Hermione. If he was unbinding her arms, her legs were grabbed more tightly. If he changed the area he was working on, so did the algae. The underwater plant was moving lazily but resolutely. Harry made no progress at all.

Harry tried to work faster. He still made no progress. He tried to cut the algae magically. It turned out to be counterproductive. Two strings grew out of every severed strip. Next he tried to use a sharp rock as a tool. He made progress this way, albeit slowly. The algae were very resistant. Harry took a look at the place, where the fourth hostage had been.

The algae had obviously been cut... but not in a magical way. The fringes of the algae were not even enough. Harry considered his options. He pointed his wand at the surface of the lake. "Accio Sirius' penknife!"

Harry searched the water for the arriving penknife. It was hurtling at him like the Firebolt had at the First Task. It was a good thing his reflexes were so fast. Harry cast: "Aresto Momentum!" just in time. The knife was slowed down until it was nearly unmoving. Harry could pluck it of the water like a weird fruit.

The magical blade cut the algae easily. Harry did not know if it was due to the enchantment of the item or the plant's properties. The algae was neither sprouting new strips or trying to take a hold on Hermione.

Harry realized, that he had still some work to do when Hermione was free of her shackles. She had to be returned to the shore. Since the witch remained in her comatose state, Harry chose to hug her limp body to his. He placed her head on his shoulder and circled his arms around her back and waist. Once he held her securely, he kicked his legs.

Harry noticed instantly, that he was considerably slower than before. He had barely used his arms before reaching Hermione. Most of his propulsion had been caused by the artificial extensions at his feet. It was not hard to guess that their combined weight was only partially responsible for slowing him down.

Hermione's cloak and her soaked winter clothes were the main reason for Harry's reduced speed. For a short time the young wizard considered removing both. He discarded the idea quickly. For one, he was aware, that he would waste precious time with this task. On the other hand, he was not sure if Hermione would appreciate it if she awoke partially unclothed.

Since he found himself with enough time at his disposal and he was more worried about losing his girlfriend than doing good on the Second Task Harry choose to play it safe.

He made sure that he had a tight grip on Hermione at all times. And he swam straight upwards. It was better to reach the surface sooner than taking the shortest route diagonally through the lake's waters.

After just a few minutes Harry saw the surface of the Black Lake from below. It sparkled mockingly at him. A sunny day in February and a soft breeze had transformed the often murky water into a marvel of light.

This was probably a good thing, since all the audience was able to observe of the Second Task were the departure of the four champions and their return with the hostages. In between they could only stare at the lake.

A lungful of fresh air was Harry's first reward when his head broke through the water. He felt elated and looked just at the right moment at Hermione for his second reward. Her unnatural sleep finally found an end. Harry saw her brown eyes flutter open.

The young witch's eyes rolled around in confusion. Harry tried to hold her steady. Hermione needed to realize that she had awoken in the middle of the lake.

Alas, his attempt failed. A wave splashed right into Hermione's face. She got water into her mouth and started to cough.

Hermione tried to hold onto Harry as she understood that she was in water. Since Harry was not wearing anything but his swimming trunks, her fingers found nothing to hold onto. They slipped from his wet skin.

In a panic Hermione slung her arms around his neck. She instinctively tried to push herself over the surface of the water, so she could finally finish her coughing and breath in.

By trying to get out of the water, she plunged Harry's head below the surface. He was able to close his mouth just in time. Unfortunately his Bubble-Head Charm had dissolved upon surfacing. Therefore it was now him who could not breath.

At least he managed to keep the struggling Hermione over water. Sadly she failed at calming down. She was holding onto Harry for her dear life while she cringed over her coughing.

Harry felt his lungs burn in need for oxygen and his heart hammered madly. The worst thing however was that he felt the control for his limbs slip. His movements became jerky and his fingers were slipping off Hermione. He realized dreadfully that it was a matter of moments before he would no longer be able to support their combined weight.

He tried to keep his calm. All he needed to do was after all to recast the Bubble-Head Charm. It was easy enough, to pull his wand from the transfigured holster at his lower leg. Only... he needed to speak the incantation!

He was between a rock and a hard place. Either they would both drown or he had to let go of Hermione.

It should have been a hard decision but it was not. Without wasting any noticeable time on thinking Harry understood what he had to do, to save the both of them.

He let go. Hermione did not. She held onto him. Harry understood that he had to stop pushing upwards. When he did, they started sinking instantly.

As Hermione realized that Harry was dragging her down she tried to pull him up.

Harry had not seen that coming. They had already sunk a few feet when Harry considered poking Hermione with the penknife. She let go of him before he had to resort to such measures. She left him behind and tried to reach the surface on her own.

Harry swam upwards and away. His head broke the surface. He made extra-sure to not swallow any water, when he inhaled deeply and screamed the incantation for the Bubble-Head Charm. He dove back into the water.

From below Harry saw, that Hermione was trying to keep herself above water. But her coughing and cramping made it impossible for her to steady herself. She was moments away from drowning. Her head was already underwater. Her right hand was pressed at her mouth while she made awkward movements with her left hand and tried to kick her legs in the right way.

Harry swam close to her. Thanks to the air around his head, he was able to speak the incantation and cast the Bubble-Head Charm at Hermione. He saw the bubble form around her. To both his and Hermione's surprise the charm expelled the water stuck in the witch's throat. Harry saw clearly a small stream run out of the left corner of her mouth.

Hermione's face was red and she stared wide eyed at Harry, when she breathed in greedily.

Meanwhile Harry felt appalled. Nobody had intervened. Hermione could have died!

He grabbed her hand. Hermione once more slung her arms around him. Harry felt his ribs close to cracking. "Thank you!" was all Hermione said. Harry guessed that he could understand her so well, because of their connected air bubbles.

They hugged each other for a full minute. They were floating underwater. Harry made some lazy movements with his swim fins, so that they neither sank down into the depth or broke the surface.

"I am cold!" was Hermione's next announcement.

Harry cast the warming charm at her. "Lets get out of the lake."

Harry hugged Hermione in the same way he had used in the village of the merpeople. He dove parallel to the glittering surface of the lake. "That is quite beautiful." was Hermione's single comment.

"I am sorry!" blurted Harry.

Hermione dragged her eyes away from the glittering surface. "And what exactly are you sorry for?"

"For getting you into this mess!"

"I would not say, that this mess is your fault."

"It is my fault that you are a hostage. Therefore it is my fault that you nearly drowned." Harry thought that was an indisputable deduction.

"First of all, you did not choose me as your hostage. This choice was made by officials of the Triwizard Tournament. So either the organizers or the judges are at fault for getting human hostages." Hermione said unimpressed. "And second, I did not nearly drown. I have not even lost consciousness."

"You were coughing like mad! You have clearly no idea how hard you cramped."

"That was not a very nice experience." Hermione made a displeased noise. "But in the end you made sure I saved and you had no trouble at it. You did that quite efficiently."

"No trouble?" Harry asked disbelievingly. "I was trying to keep your head over water for close to a minute you were holding onto me for your life!"

"You are slippery!" Hermione snapped.

Harry argued: "When I stopped kicking my legs, we sunk like a stone!"

"That is exaggerated!" Hermione pouted.

"We nearly drowned!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione had the nerve to roll her eyes at her boyfriends antics. "You were holding your breath. You were not drowning at all."

"Fine, but..."

"And I" Hermione interrupted him "...got water into my throat. That is obviously quite different from drowning."

"You were sinking without being able to get back to the surface on your own! I would call that nearly drowning!" Harry argued.

"If that was the definition of drowning, I would be drowning right now. Because I would not be able to reach the surface on my own, with this cloak. And I doubt that I could get it off in time."

"That is not the same situation."

Hermione rolled her eyes once more. "Fine. You saved my life." She said in an even, nearly bored voice. "You are such a hero. Let me kiss you as a reward." She gave him a peck.

"That is not what this is about. I am no hero!" Harry whined.

"Fine, so what is this about?"

"It's about placing you in danger. Making a hostage out of you was not right!"

"That we can agree on!" Hermione nodded energetically, which did really weird things to her hair.

Harry felt guilty about the danger Hermione had gotten into. However, he could not keep feeling guilty without getting really angry at the judges and faceless people who had organized the Tournament. He shifted back and forth between anger and guilt.

He was really confused when they reached the edge of the lake. They choose to walk on its ground until they stepped out onto the shore.

"There they are!" Ludo Bagman's booming voice greeted them. "Our second champion from Hogwarts has managed to rescue his hostage! He is the last champion to rescue his hostage."

Harry glared at the former Quidditch professional. He was at fault! He was a judge and he had helped organizing the tournament. His eyes searched for Mr. Crouch to glare at him as well. Inconveniently Madam Pomfrey bustled over and broke Harry's concentrated staring. The school nurse grumbled something, which sounded suspiciously like: "Damn this dumb tournament!" Which was the correct thing to say in Harry's mind!

The two teens were swooped away and dragged into a tent. A spell dried them straightaway. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand at them and mumbled spells which were probably of diagnostic nature. Harry glanced at Hermione. Just like he had expected: She was listening enraptured.

"At least neither of you is hypothermic !" The nurse said after a while. It turned out that Hermione was in fact totally fine, while Harry only had some minor scratches.

"Despite the unlikeliness you are both fine." announced Madam Pomfrey. She shoved a little pot at Harry. "Apply this healing salve every morning until the scratches have completely faded." The matron glared at. "You are free to go and receive your points."

Harry put his previously discarded clothes on. He took note that there were two beds with closed curtains. Madam Pomfrey stomped into the direction of the right bed still grumbling something about "...moronic idiots without a sense of self preservation..." and "... self-opinionated ministry clerks with emergency portkeys..."

The couple left the nurse to her ranting and went back to the shore of the lake. The judges were in the process of haggling how many points Harry would receive.

"I am kind of curious how the other three did." Harry whispered at Hermione, who was holding his left hand possessively.

The witch in turn nodded at a group of blabbering girls. "Don't worry, it will be school gossip for weeks!"

"There is Fleur." Harry said and barely stopped himself from pointing at the French witch. She stood next to a pair of adults and a smaller girl whom looked like her small sister. "All of them are glaring at the judges."

"Who could blame them if the little girl was Fleur's hostage?" Hermione observed.

"Why do you think she was Fleur's hostage?" Harry wondered. "I thought everyone had to save his or her date from the Yule Ball. I recognized Cho and Krum's French date. Fleur's hostage was already gone."

"Look at the judges!" Hermione huffed. "They would not make a girl save a boy."

Harry gasped. "Really?"

"Maybe they argued, that Fleur was too weak to drag a heavy boy out of the lake." Hermione offered.

Harry thought that would have been harder than pulling a small girl out of the lake. "And why do you think her little sister was her hostage?"

"Just look at the three women." Hermione sighed. "Fleur and her sister's hair are messy. Their mother's, in contrast is styled just like Fleur's usually is. Do you think her little daughter would walk around with hair like that, when Fleur is always perfectly styled just like her mother at this moment?"

"Oh..." Harry looked closer. "You are probably right."

"I am probably right?" Hermione asked with an edge in her voice.

Harry grinned lopsidedly at his girlfriend. "I meant to say definitely."

"You are teasing me!" Hermione exclaimed reproachfully. "You are obviously too well!"

Harry chuckled silently.

"There is Krum."

"Krum looks..." Harry narrowed his eyes to slits. "sullen."

Hermione commented dryly: "That is his default expression."

"The judges are now ready to announce the points for Harry Potter!" Ludo Bagman said with his magically enhanced voice.

* * *

A/N: I would like to thank The Ghostly Minion, who has beta-read this chapter. He found a surprising number of mistakes and a huge surplus of commas. If you know someone in need of them? I can donate a few ,,,,,,,


	11. Prepare on Time

Prepare on Time

* * *

Someone had grown hedges on the Quidditch pitch! The book 'Hogwarts: A History' stated that the pristine grass had been cultivated over the course of three centuries. The grass on the pitch could have inflamed envy in every English men – given the opportunity to look at it.

Hermione tried to hide her shock: "So they changed the rules of Quidditch? Starting the coming season it will include a maze?"

"Quidditch rules have not been changed since 1692!" Harry argued instantly. He only noticed the vehemence of his words once he had spoken them.

"I know. The Statue of Secrecy made some changes necessary." Hermione sighed. "It was a joke"

"Quidditch is no joking matter." Harry said in a dramatic voice.

Hermione missed that it was meant in a mocking way. She sniffed: "Lets agree, that we disagree on that one." She fixed the maze disapprovingly. "This is going to be the Third Task."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Bagman said so."

"Has he said anything else?" was only the first question of Hermione's bombardment. "Is this going to be a race? How much time do you have to finish? What are the rules? Are tools allowed?"

Harry stared wide eyed at his girlfriend. Neither he nor the other champions had thought of asking even a single question. "He said nothing about rules or what we'll have to do."

"He said nothing?" Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Well..." Harry licked his lips. He tried to remember the details of the boyish ministerial worker's speech. "There was something... Bagman said: The first to get hold of the Triwizard Cup will be the winner of the tournament."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "That sounds like a race."

"Yep, it does." Harry confirmed Hermione's theory.

"Finding a route through a maze sounds a bit unspectacular." Hermione gnawed on her bottom lip. "This is a labyrinth. Maybe they will place a minotaur inside of it?"

Harry turned his head to look at his girlfriend. His brows had vanished behind his bangs.

Hermione already came up with her next theory: "An obstacle race!" She craned her neck looking left and right along the hedges of the maze. "The narrow paths are perfect for placing traps and chaining magical beasts to certain places. One would have to get past them to reach the Triwizard Cup."

Harry could not stop himself from giving a frustrated sigh. "That sounds very likely."

"Has Bagman said something else?" Hermione requested in a businesslike tone.

Harry shook is head in denial. "Not that I can remember."

"So there is definitely no rule against summoning your broom?" Hermione asked curiously.

"He said nothing like that." A smile crept onto Harry's face. "Just the first one wins."

"You are sure about that?"

"Definitely." Harry was grinning very wide by now.

Hermione once more chewed absentmindedly on her bottom lip. "Or you could just summon the Triwizard Cup...?" She made a noise somewhere between a grumble and a sigh. It was a telltale of her annoyance. "No, that will not be possible. To unspectacular! This is the grand final of the Ministries yearlong attempt at boosting their prestige. They want a huge show. Therefore they will ward the whole area against summoning charms."

Harry felt his hope crumble. "That sounds likely too."

Hermione looked at the stands around the Quidditch pitch. "We should not waste any time. Lets make a map of the maze."

"Don't you think that would be cheating?"

Hermione answered without delay: "No."

Harry waited in vain for a long monologue. "No?" He asked finally gaping at the witch. "That is all you have to say about this? No explanation at all?"

Hermione thought her monosyllabic answer over for a moment before she shrugged her shoulders. "Indeed."

Harry took hold of Hermione's hand. He turned to climb the stand. The witch holding his hand did not tag along. She remained rooted to the spot. Harry looked confusedly at her. "Let's go and find a high position from where we can see more of the maze." He pulled softly on Hermione's hand.

"There is something I have to tell you." Hermione said in a low voice.

"Is there?" Harry cooked his head curiously.

"Yes, there is." Hermione stared past Harry. She took a deep breath held it for a long while and finally announced: "I do not like heights."

Harry had not expected that. Maybe he gaped a little bit at his girlfriend.

"I know it is ridiculous and illogical." Hermione huffed in her usual annoyance. "Nevertheless, I can't do anything about it. I really dislike being high above the ground."

"You fear heights?" Harry repeated dumbly.

Hermione snapped right back: "I have not said fear!"

Harry felt his fingers getting crushed. "Sorry, so you don't 'like heights'?"

Hermione's grip relaxed once she noticed, what she was doing. She muttered: "Kind of."

Once Harry was beyond the initial surprise, he found what he felt would have been the right words to begin this little revelation-thing: "That is nothing to be ashamed of." He additionally shrugged his shoulders when he found nothing else to say.

Hermione shuffled from on foot to the other and back before saying hesitantly: "You remember the flying lessons?"

Harry gulped. "Sure I do. You were not able to get your broom to fly. No matter which one you tried. They were only floating up to three feet height." Harry pulled a guilty face. "Everyone made fun of you..." His voice held desperation when he assured Hermione: "I'm so sorry for that. I really am!"

Hermione gave him a casual nod: "Apology accepted."

"Thank you," Harry hurriedly spoke: "but I really want you to know that I thought about apologizing before. In first year actually but..." Harry trailed off.

"... but I hexed you." Hermione completed the sentence.

"Yep. And I totally earned that!" Harry said nodding his head in approval over his own words. "I reasoned we were even when you cursed me."

Hermione nodded briefly. "I considered us even as well."

"I have thought a few times about apologizing since you and I became... friends. But I thought everything was going so nicely and... and..."

Hermione completed Harry's line of thought: "... and you did not want to disturb that by stirring up old stories."

"Exactly!" Harry sighed in relief. Yet, he found himself unable to stop apologizing: "You know? I got bullied a lot before Hogwarts. I should have known what it was like for you. I should have known better from the very start. At one point I realized what I was doing and I was ashamed of myself. I really wanted to apologize then but in the end I never did. I was kind of scared of offending Ron and the other boys and... and..."

"... and you were scared of me." Hermione added with a smirk.

Harry mumbled: "I guess, I'm not a very good Gryffindor."

"It is fine." Hermione said curtly. She was once more becoming annoyed.

Harry ignored it. "I would like to apologize now. Properly." He took hold of both of Hermione's hands and looked straight into her brown eyes. "I am sorry for making fun of you."

"I am willing to accept your apology." Hermione felt Harry's sincerity. She even saw it shinning behind his glasses and beyond his marvelous green eyes. "However I will not excuse for hexing you. Frankly said: You deserved what you got."

Harry grinned lopsidedly: "Just what I'm saying."

They smiled shyly at each other for a long moment. Harry was about to lean in for a kiss, when Hermione said: "I would like to make one last note at the matter."

Harry's confusion was painted very obviously across his face. "Sure, I am listening."

"The brooms were doing exactly, what I wanted them to do. No matter how loud I said up, I always wanted them to stay close to the ground. I never wanted one of them to actually fly. I only intended for them to barely float."

Harry chuckled mirthfully. "I think you are the only person that has ever exceeded in not exceeding."

Hermione had never thought of it that way. She frowned. It was weird but somehow it sounded quite nice if Harry said it like that.

"So you want me to go up there and make a map?" Harry nodded in direction of the stands. "You could wait for me in the library."

It was a tempting offer. Hermione shook her head in denial. "No. I will tag along. But no running or jumping around. We will hold onto the handrail while on the stairs. We will keep a distance to the edge once we are on the stands. You will make no comments about the height. And..." Hermione squeezed Harry's hand.

Harry squeezed back. He could not stop himself from grinning. "You are quite the cutie."

Hermione glared at Harry, who could not stop himself from chuckling.

Once at the top of the tower-like stands they took seats at a distance to the edge. Harry looked worriedly at Hermione: "Are you okay?"

"I am fine." Hermione pulled a parchment out of a pocket of her uniform.

Harry stared. A very small pocket. A pocket that was only there for decorative purposes. "You do that all the time!" He complained. "How do all these things fit in way to small pockets?"

"Magic." Hermione answered with a wicked grin.

Harry felt his lip twitch once but otherwise he managed to stare disapprovingly at the witch.

Hermione finally sighed: "Undetectable Extension Charm."

"Can you teach me, how to cast one?" Harry asked eagerly.

Hermione hesitated. "I would rather enchant your pockets. It is a useful charm. But it is hard to learn. And I do not think it is a good idea for you to spend time on learning it, since you have to prepare for the Final Task."

"I will come back to that offer." Harry promised.

Hermione handed quill and parchment over. "We draw the paths."

"Um... should we not draw the hedges? They are really there." Harry disagreed mildly.

Hermione shook her head in disapproval. "Do you draw the houses surrounding the streets on a road map?"

"No? The road?" Harry said obvious to Hermione's sarcasm. "The road is actually there. It gets build just like the houses. But it gets also build across fields and so on."

Hermione's nose twitched. "Draw the paths. They are like streets."

They spend around ten minutes of drawing lines, which represented the paths through the maze and not the hedges who were the maze. Harry had started at the clearing where they would obviously place the Triwizard Cup. He had marked the small pedestal which was supposed to hold it with a cross. Meanwhile Hermione had started drawing at the entry into the maze.

Harry stopped. He leaned forward. He checked his glasses. He checked his map. His gaze went back and forth. "I think the maze is changing."

"Excuse me?" Hermione stared intensely at the hedges for a few seconds before training her eyes at Harry. "It is not."

"I am sure, the maze has changed. Look at my sketch." Harry pushed his parchment underneath Hermione's nose. "It does not fit the structure of the maze. Some paths shifted."

"Or you made a mistake." Hermione mumbled. She took a closer look at Harry's map. "... or a dozen mistakes?"

Harry had craned his neck to take a look at Hermione's half of the map. He was satisfied to point out: "Your sketch is not correct either."

Hermione frowned but she compared her drawn map to the actual maze. Against all odds she found Harry to be right.

"There, it is changing right now!" Harry pointed his finger at a section of the maze.

Hermione gaped. The hedges were relocating!

Harry sighed: "I guess, that is the reason, they are not hiding the maze."

Hermione could not fault that logic. "Lets watch the maze for a while. Maybe there is a pattern for its shifting."

They had watched the hedges shift for barely five minutes, when Harry spoke up: "I have a magical map of the inside of the castle. It is showing all people in Hogwarts and even the moving staircases."

Hermione faced Harry. "That would solve the problem! All we have to do is to expand or copy it! I would like to see it right now."

"It is hidden in my trunk." Harry held his hand out to Hermione. She in turn held it hostage until they reached the ground level.

"Let us take a closer look at the hedges!" Hermione urged and dragged her boyfriend over to said plants. They could not get into arms reach of the plants. Something like an age line held them back. They stared at the hedge for a while.

"Do you know which species of plant this is?" Harry mused. "Maybe it is like that algae at the bottom of the Great Lake! Those were moving on there own too."

Hermione shook her head in the negative. "I do not know. We will have to look this up in the library."

Harry hid his smile. If someone gave him a galleon for every time Hermione said that sentence!

A brisk walk led them back to the castle. They were already on the second floor, when they ran across a group of students. Neither them or the couple said anything.

Hermione felt Harry grab her hand harder. She saw small red letters flashing on a badge. They read: "Harry Potter stinks!"

Once they were alone Harry grumbled. "Damn badges."

"They are called badgers." Hermione corrected her boyfriend.

"I was not talking about the Hufflepuffs."

"You were staring at them though."

"I was not staring at them but their badges."

"There is an easy solution for that." Hermione smiled sweetly.

"No, I will ignore them! That is the solution." Harry said full of determination. "They are just trying to irritate me. Anything I do, is playing into their hands."

"That is correct in principle." Hermione nodded. "But you have to work on your poker face. You give them exactly what you want if you grind your teeth. And by the way: Stop grinding your teeth!"

Harry stared at his girlfriend. "You are one to talk! It is so obvious, whenever you are irritated!"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I am not the one claiming that keeping calm is the solution to getting bullied."

"I am sure Malfoy makes those badges." Harry mused aloud.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the absurdity: "Do you really think, Draco sits down every afternoon and enchants a dozens badges?"

"Okay, you got a point there." However Harry was not one to get derailed easily. "I guess someone else is making them for him."

Hermione nodded in mock-confirmation: "So he only goes around and distributes them to everyone."

"Well I doubt that." Harry's conviction was slowly cracking.

Hermione smiled sweetly. "So everyone is coming to Draco. All those little first years and all the students he has insulted or threatened over the years now seek him out and ask politely for a badge. And he graciously hands them out."

"Okay, I get it. Someone else is making the badges and handing them out." Harry stubbornly said: "But I am sure it was Draco's idea."

"Do your really think he is clever enough for that?" Hermione asked smiling widely. "And if you think he is creative enough for such an idea, how do you explain him and his two cronies disguising as dementors last year? That was about the dumbest thing I ever overheard."

Harry huffed: "You think he has nothing to do with it?"

"No." Hermione shook her bushy hair in denial. "It was a group of Hufflepuffs." Her tone left no space for arguments. "One of them had the idea. He either told his friends about his idea or made one badge to show them. Out of loyality to him or Cedric or even both his friends helped him make a huge number of badges. Once they were done, they distributed the badges, thus making it impossible to single them out."

"That sounds reasonable... and hufflepuffish." Harry faltered.

Half an hour later Harry wore a pleased expression. He had been sulking once Hermione had unleashed her reasoning on him. However watching her poke and prod the Marauder's Map with her wand had lifted his spirits. Her enthusiasm was kind of cute.

The witch had been mumbling detection spells and the word "Fascinating!" in short alternation for quite some time when Harry asked: "What do you think?"

"I think it is some sort of Protean Charm." Hermione was barely able to drag her eyes away from the item in question. "The map mimics the castle. Its floor to be more precise."

"That would explain, why you see someones feet but nothing else." Harry nodded in understanding. "And how does it work that the map shows the name of everybody?"

"I do not know yet." Hermione glanced at the parchment. "Have you tested if you are visible on the map if you are sitting on your broom?"

Harry cocked his head. "No, I never thought of that. Wait for me! I will go and fetch my Firebolt."

Harry returned a few minutes later with the broom on his shoulder. Hermione said without looking up: "You could have summoned it."

"Oh..."

It turned out that Harry was still visible when he sat on his broom.

"I guess the magic is more complex." Hermione waved her wand once more. "Where did you get this map? I have never heard of such an item."

"I got it from Fred and George." Harry revealed. "They said I was in bigger need of it than them."

"Really?" Hermione asked in surprise. "Do you know where they got the map from?"

Harry nodded. "They found it in Filch's office."

"It belonged to Filch?" Hermione queried in a disbelieving tone.

"He had confiscated it from someone. It was not working at the time."

Hermione fell silent. She flicked her wand absentmindedly at the map. "That is an odd title." Hermione pointed at the head of the map where Marauder's Map was written in calligraphy. "You do not happen to know who made this?"

Harry had been waiting for this question. "I do."

Hermione asked eagerly: "Who made it?"

"My father and his friends. They were still students back then."

Hermione turned the map back and forth in search of details she may have missed. "How do you know?"

Harry liked being the one with the answers. "Remus told me."

"You are talking about Professor Lupin?"

"He is Moony." Harry pointed at the line above the title. "My father's nickname was Prongs. Sirius Black my godfather was called Padfoot. And Wormtail is Peter Pettigrew. He is a Death Eater and he betrayed my parents to Voldemort."

Harry watched his girlfriend while he told her about the four men that had once been best friends. She barely batted an eye at the name of Sirius Black or the fact that Peter Pettigrew was a Death Eater. She frowned at Harry when he said Voldemort's name but she did not shriek, shudder or flinch.

"I would like to examine the map thoroughly. Find out how the spells are linked and..." Hermione's voice faded slowly while her attention shifted to the map. "...stuff.""

"You will handle it carefully – won't you?" Harry asked just to be sure.

Hermione's hair shifted when she nodded. "Yes, I will."

"Okay, you can keep it for the time being."

"You should write to Professor Lupin and Mr. Black and tell them about the shifting labyrinth. Explain to them that you would like to use this map or another one for navigating through it. Maybe they can safe us a lot of effort."


	12. Duel

Duel

* * *

Harry jumped out of the way of a flash of light. He dared to glance behind himself where the spell had hit the ground. Blades of grass were knotted in a straight line at an arms length. Hermione had aimed a simple schoolyard jinx at him! "Seriously?"

A soft giggle revealed Hermione's apparent amusement: "Why should I not?"

A growl escaped Harry's throat. His girlfriend barely whispered her incantations. She had made steady progress at casting silently. She assumed that she would be moving her lips silently by October.

Harry could only guess how hard it would become to duel her in December when she planned to only have to think of incantations. He was already having very real problems right now because he only found out which spell had been sent at him when it hit him of something else. It was this frustration that commanded his voice: "I've never seen you use that spell before! How many spells do you even know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That was a charm."

"Well how many charms do you know than?"

"Do you really think I would fall for such an obvious attempt at..."

Harry imitated Hermione and mumbled: "Expelliarmus!" A red jet of light surged at his girlfriend.

The spell bounced of her shield. Again.

Hermione's wand had moved at a wicked speed. Again.

Her wand was a very sharp contrast to herself. She was still standing on the same spot since they had come down from the castle. So far she had only bothered to turn from backing the Forbidden Forest to looking at it because Harry had circled her.

"You really thought I could be fooled!" Hermione huffed offendedly. "You expected me to let my guard down just because I was speaking." She glared at Harry who shrugged her complain off. "And by the way: That disarming spell was not strong enough. I would have been able to hold onto my wand even if I had not blocked it."

"What can I say? It was worth a try." Harry rose from the ground with a groan. There was barely a part of his body which was not hurting. He really felt like he had strained all of his muscles. On top of the jerky movements necessary to evade Hermione's aiming wand, he had been hit by more spells, jinxes and – obviously – charms than he had dared to count. His left shoulder hurt the most! That was his own fault though: He had tried to roll like he had seen on TV.

"Lets head back to the castle. You are done for today." Hermione said unconcernedly.

Harry objected stubbornly: "I'm fine."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You are fine? You can call yourself lucky that I made a new pot of healing salve."

Once more Harry tried to launch a surprise attack.

Hermione flicked her wand casually, casting yet another shield charm.

"How did you know?" He asked bewilderedly.

"You attempted to take me by surprise at least a dozen times. When I was about to roll my eyes, I knew you would attack."

The teenage wizard fell silent. It was painfully obvious that Hermione was out of his league when it came to dueling. He mulled her obvious advantages over and finally said what he had been thinking for quite some time now: "You've to teach me the shield charms you're using."

Hermione's lips became very thin. Even a stranger could have foreseen, that she was about to decline: "If you don't want to use Protego, you have to use at least five - no make that six - other shield charms. At your learning rate you would master at best three or maybe four shield charms in time for the Third Task."

When Harry opened his mouth to disagree Hermione just talked over him: "Additionally, you have to recognize if your opponent is about to use a spell, charm, jinx or curse. Before he finishes casting. Meaning that you have to recognize it only by the first syllable and the mirrored starting movement of your opponents wand. This will not work for two reasons! You do not know enough magical incantations by heart. And you only guess which are charms and which are spells. You are better of with an allround shield charm. And the best one of them is Protego."

Harry groaned: "So you want to tell me that I can't use the more effective Shield Charms because I've not done enough cramming?"

Hermione smirked lightheartedly. "That sounds about right."

A number of curse words slipped out of Harry's mouth. Harry's frustration broke loose: "I'm not standing a chance against the other champions. Just look at them! Even Fleur is towering over me. She called me a little boy, when we met after the Goblet of Fire spit my name out. And she was right! Maybe I should not start at the last task? I could just accept the punishment of the Magical Contract. I'd just lose my ability to perform magic after all. That's not such a big loss. I've lived without it before coming to Hogwarts. I've obviously not done anything worthwhile over the last four years anyway!"

"I know that you under great stress but pull yourself together!" Hermione snapped. "You are a great wizard. Who has ever heard of someone able to cast a Patronus at your age? I am telling you: You are on the right track! You need to exploit your strengths."

Harry countered Hermione's argument: "Relying on my reflexes and trying to evade all of your spells is not doing me any good!"

"What are you expecting? You only trained for a month so far. Twice a week. You have become way better at dodging and shielding. However you can only come so far over the course of a few weeks."

Praise was rarely offered by Hermione and was therefore completely unexpected by Harry. He only noticed in hindsight what she had actually said. He was quite astonished: "You think I'm a great wizard?"

Hermione's nose twitched.

Harry mouthed her usual complain for Hermione: "Don't make me repeat myself."

The witch nodded amusedly and expanded her former statement: "You have always been better than most."

"Not nearly as good as you though."

"I never noticed you making an effort." Hermione said sharply.

Harry frowned. "I trained a substantial part of the last school year to master the Patronus Charm."

"And what did you do the rest of the year?" Hermione asked unimpressed.

"Not very much." Harry conceded with a sigh.

"Your recent efforts are paying off." Hermione thought it was about time to slightly redirect the course of their discussion. "Are you done reading Beronico Sinisi's Lectures on Dueling?"

The change of topic had the desired effect on Harry. A mischievous smirk crept on his face and he quipped: "I even made notes."

He was rewarded with a snort. Hermione had failed to thoroughly suppress her giggle. She glared chastisingly at her boyfriend.

Harry had a very hard time suppressing a chuckle.

"Are you done?" Hermione glowered.

"Yes, I'm done."

"Wonderful!" said on edge. "I wanted to say: You would fare better against anybody but me. You are for two reasons at a disadvantage." Harry listened intently. "For one thing, I know what you are trying to do. I read Sinisi's book in second year as part of my light reading schedule." Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, when he gaped at. He always did that whenever she mentioned 'light reading'. "And for another thing I saw each and every one of your moves by now."

"You're probably right."

Hermione pursed her lips.

Harry just had to smirk. "Sorry! You're absolutely right."

They stared at each other for a moment. Harry caught himself trying to make a new plan at attacking Hermione. Maybe they should really wrap this session up. That was not what a boy was supposed to do while looking at his girlfriend! And on top of that, he could not even find a single weak spot he had not tried to attack by now... Harry frowned. "There's something I wanted to ask you for a while now. You're standing still all the time. Why are you not following Sinisi's instructions?"

Hermione arched her eyebrows impressively: "I will repeat myself for once: Our strengths differ. It would be moot for me to try and adapt Sinisi's lectures. Dueling techniques for the piste are better suited for me."

"Sinisi says: You are doomed to lose if you try to duel like you are on the piste while you are not." Harry blinked in bewilderment. For once he and not Hermione had been the one to quote a book.

Hermione looked seriously at Harry: "Sinisi is - and I really want to stress this - not always right."

Harry frowned in confusion. He barely stopped himself from blurting out what he thought. He knew: It's not what you say, but how you say it. Especially if you wanted to tell Hermione that she was wrong. "Sinisi was a professional dueler. He won multiple championships." Harry rushed his next words: "I think he is right, when he says that evading a spell is better than having to shield against it."

A smirk graced Hermione's lips. "You know that there is more than one book about dueling, right? I recommended Sinisi's to you because I thought it would fit best to your skill set. Now that you are done with it, you can check the library and try to find the one that fits best to me."

The gears in Harry's head were turning fast. He was guessing correctly that he had to look those books up if he wanted to stand a chance at convincing Hermione of his opinion. His other option was to best her in a duel and in that way prove that she was wrong. A task which would become easier if he unearthed the book she had chosen as her reference. He kept that thought to himself. "What do you think? Can I stand up to Krum and Fleur?"

"Who knows what those two are capable of?" Hermione countered his question with one of her own and instantly started answering it herself: "Krum transfigured his own head at the Second Task. That either signifies that he is a very capable wizard or a very inconsiderate one. I would say that he is a bit of both, which makes him very dangerous. You should always keep in mind that he cursed his dragon!"

Harry accepted that advice with a nod.

"Fleur on the other hand used gillyweed, which could indicate a lot of different things. Maybe she has a knack for Herbology. Or she knew the magical plant by accident. Maybe she lives at the Mediterranean Sea and it grows somewhere close to her home? Or maybe someone told Fleur about it to help her out? We can only guess. The way she handled her dragon however was very deliberate. I saw the wizards handling the dragons nodding at each other. Fleur is very hard to evaluate. She could receive more and purposeful help than any of the other champions or she could be very clever. Better safe than sorry! You should assume that she has a lot of tricks up her sleeve."

"So..." Harry could barely hide his amusement. "basically, you're telling me that I should not be overconfident in my abilities?"

Hermione's nostrils flared. She went on with her rant: "We are poking around in the dark. If you want to make an educated guess at the other champions abilities, you will have to put some effort into it. Frankly said: I have other things to worry about. And so do you. Training to duel already borders on wasting time. You talked me into it. You would be better off investing this time in learning about detection spells and magical beasts."

Harry made no comment on that.

"I told you: I lean towards learning about magical beasts. The traps will be anything but lethal. They will slow you down or maybe get you stuck. But there is no way the British Ministry of Magic would risk to kill or maim a foreign student by using a dangerous or even lethal trap. The press all over Europe would leap onto them and deconstruct all credit they build since they hosted the Quidditch World Cup. It would be an entirely different matter if someone was to be maimed or killed by a magical beast."

Harry nodded obediently. "You're right. I'll stick to your schedule for preparation." He could not argue with the witch since her plan for the Second Task had worked out so finely. "But I really think we can afford the time to duel two times a week." He needed this to look forward to. He had always preferred practical lessons over theoretical ones. Detection Spells were unbelievably dull. And cramming about Magical Beasts had by now become boring too. Harry haggled for another try: "Once more?"

Hermione sighed: "Fine. One more time. On three."

"One." said Harry eagerly.

"Two." continued Hermione.

"Three!" finished Harry. His wand whipped and he said: "Tarantallegra!"

Hermione's shield was already up when the jinx left the tip of Harry's wand. She trained her own one at him.

The young wizard faked moving in one direction and went for the other. He tried to roll over his right shoulder but was stuck midair by a spell: "Stupefy!"

Harry fell limply to the ground. He lay half curled into a roll.

Hermione aimed her wand to reanimate her boyfriend. She hesitated. She had always been curious how the Stunning Spell affected ones body. However she had never dared to examine. It could have been interpreted in the wrong way easily if she had been seen leaning over someone lying on the ground.

The bushy haired witch involuntary imagined whispering voices. They taunted her, called her desperate and unable to find a boy that would kiss her out of his free will. And despite – or was it 'because of'? – everything she had been through, words hurt her.

However this situation was different. Everyone knew that Harry was her boyfriend. She knelt down next to him. Her fingertips searched for his pulse. It was rather slow but very even. When she put her hand on his chest, she found herself unable to register his breathing. She rolled Harry onto his back and leaned over his face to listen for it. It was impossible to register against the rustling noises from the nearby forest, but she felt his breath on the sensitive skin behind her ear. She found the tickle to be oddly pleasurable.

Her last test was taking a look at Harry's eyes. Cautiously she pushed his glasses back and lifted one of his eyelids. His green pupil showed no reaction to the light of her wand. Hermione hesitated. The color of his eyes was really magnificent. It was an intense green. She glanced at the forest in search of leaves that were similar in color. She found none. With a smile on her lips she thought that somewhere there was an emerald in the same color.

Once the witch was done, fancying her boyfriend, she leaned back until she sat on her heels. She pointed her wand at him and said: "Rennervate!"

It was a good thing that she was no longer bend over him. Harry sat up with a jerk. His head would have bumped straight into hers. Harry's eyes were wide open and he breathed in sharply. He cried out: "What was that?"

"I stunned you." Hermione answered in alarm.

"I... No, that's not what I meant." Harry touched his chest. "The moment I awoke my heart was beating really fast. It was almost hurting."

This description worried Hermione. "Really?"

"Yes." Harry nodded fiercely.

"I used Rennervate on you." Hermione explained frowning at her wand. "The spell is supposed to wake a person up."

"Well that worked." Harry conceded. "But is it supposed to give me the heart frequency of a hummingbird?"

"I am not entirely sure." Hermione answered hesitantly. Her hand went to Harry's neck in search of his pulse. "You seem to be alright now."

"Yeah, I think so too. The feeling was gone after a moment." Harry noticed how close they were to each other. He leaned forward.

Hermione closed her eyes. She had made a correct guess at Harry's intention. One of his hands slid into her tresses. Her head got angled and they kissed.

Harry's free arm snaked around the small of Hermione's back. She did not mind getting pulled into his lap.

Hermione shrieked in surprise, when Harry rolled them both over unexpectedly.

They continued kissing with her lying on her back and Harry half on top of her. The ground was not hard but it felt damp and was chilly. The sun had not done a very good job today. Therefore Hermione felt not inclined to stay in this position for to long. She made Harry roll on his back so she could lie on top of him.

They kissed more and Harry's hands stroked her back up and down with just the right pressure. Sometimes his hands glided to her sides holding and petting her. However he never touched her private regions. Hermione broke their kiss. "You are waiting for permission to touch my breast and bottom, are you not?"

The young witch noted in bemusement as Harry's eyes went wide. He stuttered: "Um... I... well... kind of?"

Hermione smirked mischievously: "Be my guest."

Harry was about to ask if she was sure. Luckily he remembered Hermione's dislike of having to repeat herself in time. His hands slid down her back. Lower and lower, over the hem of her uniform skirt until they finally held her bum. It was pliable and firm at the same time.

A soft groan assured Harry that he was doing quite fine. He watched Hermione's brown eyes flutter. Huskily she asked: "You are not curious about my boobs at all?" before he could answer Harry felt Hermione shift her weight.

Her chest pressed into him in a very familiar manner. His green eyes widened. "You're doing that on purpose?!"

Hermione was torn between amusement and impatience: "Are you going to complain? Now? Of all times?"

Biting his tongue Harry made his hands leave their current location. He slid them at a teasing pace along Hermione's sides. She shivered in anticipation and he was soon rewarded by another appreciative moan.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the many reviews and the huge interest.


	13. Due and due are due today

Due and due are due today

* * *

"Bouncing Barrel!" Hermione barked at the fat lady. The occupant of the painting hurried to swing open. One made the bushy haired witch crash into ones frame only once. The portrayed fat lady still shuddered whenever she remembered her beautiful dress' color changing to orange.

Hermione strode through the Gryffindor Common Room. She spotted her boyfriend easily. He was slouching at a table. Ron sat opposite of him. He had an afternoon nap. She stalked over to the duo. "Harry, what are you doing?"

Ron nearly jumped out of his skin. The wizard in question was only slightly startled. He looked up from his book and gestured at a parchment wearily: "I am doing my divination homework."

"Divination is rubbish." Hermione announced and looked disdainfully at Harry's schoolbook. "Don't waste your time. Come with me. Ron can take care of your stuff." That was all she had to say. She turned around so swiftly, that her hair whipped around her shoulders.

"I better find out what's up." Harry rose from his seat.

Ron yawned at Harry's retreating back. "Yeah, we'll finish that assignment tomorrow!"

When Harry left the common room Hermione had already rushed halfway down the corridor. He had to hurry, to catch up to her. "What's the matter? Where're we going?"

"Fleur requested me to inquire if you were willing to teach her the Patronus Charm. She will meet you in a classroom close to the greenhouses." Hermione answered both questions without slowing down.

Harry frowned. He wondered if those sentences really added up. "We are going there? Now?"

"Yes." Hermione said briskly.

"What, if I had been busy?"

Hermione shot the argument down: "It is Saturday afternoon. You are never busy at this time of the week."

"I was doing homework." Harry said defiantly.

"You can resume that at a later point of time." Hermione screwed up her nose. "Or you just fail the course. Nobody cares for divination anyway."

Harry's eyebrows were making an attempt at hiding behind his fringe. "Okay, that's true. But you could have asked me nonetheless if I was willing to teach Fleur, before you told her that I would do so."

Hermione stopped abruptly. She snapped at Harry. "I am not an owl!" Her right index finger poked him at every of the following punctuation marks: "I will not run around. And deliver messages! Fleur asked me. Because she was unable to find you. And. I said yes in your stead, because I knew out of experience: You. Are. Never. Occupied. On. A. Saturday. Afternoon."

"Okay, fine." Harry rubbed the now sore spot on his chest.

Upon getting her way, a smile spread over Hermione's face. Her cheeks were rosy, from hasting through the castle. It looked nice on her. Harry leaned forward and they shared a kiss.

Before it could get serious, Hermione stepped back. "Come on. No time to tattle!"

They were still three stories above ground level. Harry choose to keep his questioning going: "So this is it? I will repay my debt from the Yule Ball by teaching Fleur the Patronus Charm?"

"Fleur has not used the word debt. But, yes, you will be even after this."

"Is teaching her the Patronus Charm really enough to settle that debt?"

"Yes, it is." Hermione stated firmly. "She only gave you a hint. She did neither save me from the lake for you nor has she offered to prepare you."

The young wizard was still not convinced. "Well, that hint was important. Without it, I would not have been able to prepare for the Second Task at all."

Hermione huffed disagreeably. "Lets have a look at the facts okay?"

"Fine." Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"On the day of the Yule Ball there was a chance, that you had been at a disadvantage. And mind you, it was only a chance." Hermione started. "There were literary two months left for you to prepare for the Second Task. Anything could have happened."

In that instant Harry remembered a short conversation from the day of the Yule Ball. "Ludo Bagman wanted to help me!"

Hermione got derailed by Harry's unexpected remark. The way, in which she cocked her head, gave her curiosity away. "Excuse me?"

"At the Yule Ball, when I was fetching you a drink, he tried to have a conversation with me. Now that I think about it, I am pretty sure, that he would have helped me!"

"Really? What makes you think that?" Hermione wanted to know.

The Triwizard participant tried to remember, what exactly the former Quidditich professional had said. "He was going on about it being unfair, that I was younger than the three other champions. And … and I can't remember the rest of our conversation, but now that I think about it, I am pretty sure, that he would have helped me if I had been unable to solve the problem."

"Interesting." Hermione mumbled. "Why would he do so? He is one of the judges."

"Maybe he wants Hogwarts to win." Harry suggested.

Hermione thought that remark over. "That guess is as sound as any other."

"So back to Fleur and her hint." Harry requested.

Hermione nodded in acceptance and went on to explain: "If you take a logical look at it, Fleur had to help you. She could not choose any other way to act upon."

Harry looked quizzically at his girlfriend. "If Fleur had not helped me, I would have been out of the contest. She would have been one step closer to winning."

Hermione shook her head vehemently. Making her hair whip through the air once more. "No. First of all, you have to remember, that this is not a dueling situation between Fleur and yourself. It is a competition between four people. So if you lose, that does not automatically mean Fleur wins. She can beat you and still only become third."

"I get that." Harry said.

"Do you?" challenged Hermione. "Lets put that to the test. Imagine, what the best possible outcome for Fleur would have been, if she had not assisted you!" Without waiting for Harry to make up his mind, she went on: "You fail completely and lose any opportunity to win the tournament." She emphasized this with a short pause. "The worst outcome for her – neglecting her own performance – would have been: You master the Second Task without her help. Lets say: Thanks to Ludo Bagman."

"Or thanks to your help." Harry added.

"You are welcome." Hermione grinned at her boyfriend. "Now, let us compare it to Fleur's second option back at the Yule Ball: She was able to help you without any cost for her, just by giving you a valuable hint. Thanks to her assistance you were immediately able to prepare for the Second Task."

Harry nodded.

"Let us analyze that." Hermione demanded. "The best outcome for Fleur is: You fail somehow and end up in a bad starting position for the last task. Which puts you in the same situation as before with the small difference that in this scenario you owe her an additional favor. I guess you understand, what is the worst possible outcome for Fleur regarding your and neglecting her own performance?"

Harry nodded in understanding. "I complete the task. But I still owe her a favor."

"That is right." Hermione confirmed. "How you would compete in the Second Task was unpredictable to Fleur. But she had an option to gain an advantage no matter how you performed. Fleur profits in any scenario if you reciprocate her favor."

Harry mulled that explanation over. "Did she not just switch one chance for another? She does not know me. Why would she assume, that I would repay her favor?"

"Now that is the right question to ask!" Hermione smiled approvingly. "While you were fetching us drinks, I told Fleur some tidbits about you. I painted a very shiny picture of you. Therefore, she assumed, you would honor her help." Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Once more: You are welcome."

Harry fell silent. His doubt of Hermione's explanation was visible on his face. "Do you really think, that's her reasoning? That is a rather complex thought process. I am not surprised you could come up with a plan like that but Fleur is not as clever as you."

"I hinted all the necessary facts to her." Hermione said smugly. "But I have another explanation for you. One that would require less cunning on Fleur's part."

"I'm all ears."

"If Fleur sees you as the weakest of the four champions, it would be logical to help you out. If Fleur assumes to beat you anyway, an additional favor from you would give her an edge over Viktor and Cedric."

Harry sighed. "Okay, now that is something, I can believe. That other explanation is a little bit to … complicated."

"Do not underestimate Fleur Delacour." Hermione said seriously. "She is not as guileless as you believe."

"I don't think she is just a pretty face. I am sure she is a capable witch. Fleur is Beauxbaton's champion after all." Harry went on: "But I don't think, she is that calculating."

"You are wrong." Hermione send a thin lipped smile at Harry. "Do you remember the kiss, she gave you at the Yule Ball?"

The panicked expression on Harry's face was enough of an answer. "Vaguely?"

Hermione thought it was cute, that Harry feared, she would hold that kiss against him. "She was looking at me, while kissing you. She was curious about my reaction."

Harry gaped. "She kissed me, because of you?"

A giggle escaped Hermione's throat. "If you phrase it like that, it sounds kind of naughty."

"Yeah." Harry grinned sheepishly. "So what was she looking for?"

"She checked in a very sneaky manner if I was telling her the truth." Hermione informed Harry. "Had she seen jealousy on my face, when she kissed you, it would have been reasonable to assume, that we were more than just housemates back than. In that case it would have been very reasonable to assume that I would lie for you."

They passed two corridors in silence until Harry finally got beyond thinking of kisses: "What have you told her anyway?"

"Just some small anecdotes about you being a nice guy." Before Harry realized, that Hermione had essentially told him nothing, she added: "I hope, I did not crush your confidence, by revealing to you, that Fleur has not kiss you because you are irresistible. I don't want to be harsh on you. But the truth is, you are fourteen and there is a bunch of better looking guys in school."

Harry pulled a mocking face, like he had been mortally offended. "Ouch! That hurts!"

The witch rolled her eyes. "Quit fooling around. I just so happen to know that you are not narcissistic. That is one of your better traits!"

Harry laughed for real: "Thank you for flattering me!"

Hermione rubbed her temples and whispered: "Men! Can't live with them, can't live without them!"

Harry draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Now, that's my girlfriend talking."

"Do not grind on your girlfriends nerves, or she might become your ex-girlfriend!" Hermione threatened with a joking smile.

"So, I would be free to hook up with Fleur?"

That earned Harry a punch in the rips. A hard one. "Ow!" He exclaimed rubbing the hurting spot. "How can someone so small, hit that hard?"

Upon turning the next corner they came across Fleur. "There you are!" the blonde witch exclaimed in her heavy French accent. "I have been searching these corridors for half an hour!"

Harry apologized reflexively. "Sorry."

Hermione did not apologize. She did, what she liked to do the most. She gave an explanation: "It is necessary, to meet in a secluded part of the castle. Rumors will arise if the two of you are seen together."

"Are you not going to stay?" Harry was surprised. "I could teach the Patronus Charm to you as well."

"No. I have an essay to finish." Hermione deflected.

"Can't you put that off for another day? Tomorrow is Sunday." Harry all but pleaded.

"I have a schedule to uphold." Hermione huffed in annoyance. "And besides, I trust the both of you. So there is no reason for me to chaperon."

Harry was not one to give up so easily: "It is a nice day. Why don't you stay outside with us?"

Fleur snickered quietly.

"It is a nice day." Harry defended his generous description of the windy day. "We could train on the backside of the greenhouses."

"I have no time to spare!" Hermione snapped at Harry. "And you will train inside of a classroom with a locking spell on the door and privacy charms on the windows! I do not want to have all witches in Hogwarts gossip about you and Fleur for the next seven years!" Hermione pointed at the closest door. "And if the two of you could leave separately, I would be ever so grateful!"

After pestering her boyfriend into doing what she wanted, Hermione was once more free to push her secret agenda forward. It had been delayed so much by Fleur Delacour's request, that its timing was nearly ruined.

Hermione slipped into a nearby classroom. She wasted no time on casting any privacy or locking charms. Instead she left the door ajar and listened in on the corridor. Time was of the essence. A new window of opportunity would only open in a week.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good!" Hermione whispered at an empty parchment.

The Marauder's Map became as alive as was possible for a parchment. Hermione corrected herself mentally: It became as alive as she would allow a parchment. One day she would find out, who was responsible for that diary in second year. Once she did, there would be hell to pay!

Hermione forced herself to relax. It would not do to damage Harry's heirloom. She smoothed out the wrinkles she had made.

The enchanted parchment was already opened at the section that was of interest to her. The Slytherins were still at their little tea party. Every Saturday they would meet at the top floor of Stone Bridge Tower. Hermione assumed, they had chosen that tower because of its magnificent view over the lake.

Hermione took note, that no teacher was close. She could proceed with her plan. Her lips formed a diabolic grin. "Mischief managed!"

She rushed through corridors and reached the perfect spot for her ambush. She made a mental list of the few persons she saw. Keeping track of people had turned out to be a key skill for getting away with forbidden things.

It would be all that more important, as what Hermione had in mind today, was not only forbidden at Hogwarts - like casting in the corridors or jinxing other students. What she was about to do, was outright illegal.

Once Hermione reached her hiding spot, she found herself with no time to spare. She double-checked the Marauder's map. The young witch drowned the prepared antidote and found herself gagging. She had to fight, to keep the repulsive green liquid inside her stomach.

Once she had managed this feat, Hermione conjured a small vial. She retrieved a lilac potion from her pocket and with utmost care poured it into the conjured vial. A small amount of glittering powder was added, before the vial was sealed with a conjured stopper. She shook everything until potion and powder had dissolved into purple smoke.

Hermione was straining her ears. Her white teeth became visible, when she smiled upon hearing Draco's arrogant drawl. He was making polite small talk to Pansy. While studying the map and making her plan, Hermione had noticed that Draco escorted the witch quite regularly. Something was going on between the two of them.

With a flick of her wand and a mere whisper, Hermione disillusioned herself. Better safe than sorry.

As Draco came round the corner, his words became distinguishable: "...no idea, what he sees in her!"

"That is exactly, what I said yesterday!" cooed Pansy. "She has no idea, how to behave. No female grace, no manners and no beauty to speak of! She is like..."

When the Slytherin couple was only a few feet away, Hermione swung her arm. She threw the conjured bottle onto the floor, where it burst into pieces. The purple gas was released and it expanded into a sweet smelling mist, which dissipated into nothing. It was only thanks to the lack of windows and the narrowness of this corridor that the vaporized potion worked.

Draco and Pansy barely heard the glass shatter before they lost consciousness. The potion operated extremely fast. The two Slytherins slumped to the floor like marionettes, whose strings had been cut.

Hermione was grinning like the Cheshire cat. With the small difference that her smile was as invisible as the rest of her. Everything was going according to plan. Still invisible she hurried over to Draco and unfastened the badge from his robes. "Potter stinks." flashed at her, as she touched it. In place of the original she attached a manipulated piece, she had previously found on the floor of the library. Afterwards, she vanished the pieces of conjured glass with a quick: "Finite!"

"I hope you have some patience." whispered Hermione as a farewell. She was inclined to stay close and watch Draco and Pansy reawaken, but she deemed that as to risky.

The Pertubatius Potion would wear of in about a minute. The two Slytherins would than wake up while finding themselves in a state of nonconsciousness. Unable to register or remember what happened to them. The description of the potion claimed, that its after effect was like the moment before falling asleep. Nobody was able to remember that!

If everything worked out, Draco and Pansy would shrug the whole experience off. If it did not work out, it would be good for Hermione to be elsewhere. And it would be even better to have somebody assuming, she had been at that place all along. At best the word of this somebody would be beyond any doubt.

Hermione's destination of choice was the library. She made sure that nobody saw her enter, before she went over to Madam Pince: "Excuse me. I would appreciate it if you could help me. I've been searching a book for a while now."

The mature witch looked warily at Hermione. "Which one?"

"Magick Moste Evile." The student answered.

The librarian hissed: "I know, you have been allowed into the restricted section, but this book is really not meant for the eyes of someone of your age!"

"I wish to take a look at it." Hermione answered stubbornly.

The witches argued for almost ten minutes, which was for once fine with Hermione. A couple of Ravenclaws witnessed her little dispute. In the end Madam Pince caved in. It was after all her job to assist and not to advice the students.

Half an hour was wasted on searching. Hermione had misplaced the only copy of Magick Moste Evile two days prior. It would simply not do, for Madam Pince to ruin Hermione's alibi of searching the forbidden section by just pulling the tome from its place.

For the rest of the afternoon Hermione was happy like a fish in water. In her opinion the library was by far the best place on the entire grounds! Harry showed up to fetch her for dinner. Once they were alone she asked: "How did Fleur do?"

Her boyfriend answered thoughtfully. "Alright, I guess."

Hermione's curiosity was piqued: "Did she manage to summon a corporal Patronus?"

Messy black hair shook in denial: "No corporal Patronus."

The witch frowned. "How did she do alright than?"

"She did better than me on my first day of training." Harry sounded slightly displeased.

Hermione outright demanded to know: "What exactly can she do now?"

"She can create a silvery shield, which is the first step of the Patronus Charm." Harry sighed. "I think she has to come up with a stronger memory."

"Will she need another lecture with you?" Hermione was not jealous. Leaving Harry alone with Fleur for one afternoon was fine, but having the French witch in close proximity to her boyfriend made her uneasy. There was always the risk of rumors. And she did not want the older girl to give Harry some well meant advice.

"All she needs to do is find a strong positive memory." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know how I could help her with that."

Hermione approved of Harry's sentiment: "I see your point."

They took seats at the Gryffindor's table and surveyed the offered dishes. Their plates were still empty, when Draco made his appearance. Hermione noticed him out of the corner of her eye. He waltzed into the Great Hall like he owned the entire school. Crabbe and Goyle had replaced Pansy.

"There is the ferret!" Ron grumbled doing Draco the favor of pointing his arrival out to the Gryffindors

"Lets just ignore him." Harry glanced at Draco, who in turn had only been waiting for this.

With a disdainful smirk Draco made a big show of raising his finger and aiming it at his badge. At the moment it read: 'Support Cedric Diggory - The Real Hogwarts Champion.'

Not only Slytherins were snickering at Draco's artful mocking of Harry. Some people even craned their neck to make sure that the youngest champion was watching.

When Draco's finger came in contact with his badge, the letters remained as they were. They did not even turn green.

It was the Gryffindor's turn to snicker. The blonde Slytherin looked at his badge in confusion. He poked it several times, which led to more snickering and a very fast decline of interest in his person.

A pained yell drew everyone's attention back to him. The infamous Slytherin was floundering on the floor of the Great Hall. His hands were wildly groping at his chest where the badge was fixed to his uniform. He was unable to get a hold of it. The badge was smoldering.

Crabbe and Goyle tried to help Draco. But they only managed to burn their fingers. The students shrieked and gasped but nobody except his two cronies were trying to help him out.

Snape had to swoop down from the Head Table. A simple "Finite Incantatem!" put an end to the disaster.

Draco was crying. Hermione thought that he sobbed like a little girl. Ron was gloating on Draco's behalf. No Gryffindor was sorry for the arrogant Slytherin.

Hermione noticed some badges lying on the floor when Draco was levitated out of the Great Hall.

On three of the four tables students were trying to dispose the artifacts. Some were very cautious while doing so. Others were trying to be inconspicuous about it. The rest was just trying to get rid of them as fast as possible. Only the Gryffindors were laughing and chatting animatedly.

Hermione elbowed Harry: "You see those Hufflepuffs over there." She nodded at the far end of their table.

"Yep! I see them." Harry confirmed. He smirked at Hermione and said the words she obviously wanted to be told: "You were right."

Hermione's mouth was already open but a strict voice hindered her from saying something: "I would like to know who is responsible for this."

The Gryffindors turned to look at their Head of House. Professor McGonagall was towering over her sitting cubs. Her gaze wandered back and forth between the Weasley twins and Hermione. "Once Professor Snape returns he will start searching for the culprit of this very indecent prank. I can assure anyone willing to come forth with the truth that my punishment will be rather tolerable in comparison to what Professor Snape will come up with."

All Gryffindors held their breath. Even the closest Ravenclaws kept their mouths shut. Obviously in hopes of overhearing what was about to be said.

McGonagall singled the first of her usual suspects out: "Miss Granger, what were you doing this afternoon."

Hermione pursed her lips in distaste before answering: "At first I was with Harry. Doing... things." She glared at McGonagall, who had the decency to come to the wrong conclusion and turn slightly pink. "However, most of the time I was studying in the library. I am pretty sure Madam Pince will remember, because we had a long talk about my taste of literature." Hermione huffed in actual annoyance.

"I will check that." Professor McGonagall eyed Harry. He looked at her like a deer caught in headlights.

"Checked." commented George snickering.

McGonagall turned her attention at the notorious pranksters in her house. Before she could ask, the twins spoke up. They chorused: "No need to worry on our behalf, Professor!"

Fred said with a wide grin: "We have the perfect alibi ready for Professor Snape."

George made a sweeping gesture: "We handed out free samples to the first years!"

The Weasleys double-grinned at their Professor and Fred added: "We got loads of witnesses!"

A lot of small heads bobbed in confirmation.

George nodded vehemently: "Just send Professor Snape at us!"

"Don't worry Professor," Fred said and pompously stood up. He even placed a foot on the table. "We will be able to get detention even tough..."

George had stood up as well. He grabbed his chest like his heart hurt. "...we are completely innocent!"

"In this instance." Fred added wiggling his eyebrows to everybody's amusement.

McGonagall glared at the two redheads. "I hope you are all telling the truth. Because Professor Snape will find out. And when he does, it will be anything but funny."

With that said Professor McGonagall retreated to the High Table. She went straight to Madam Pince and checked Hermione's story. After a exchanging only a few words the two witches looked very conspicuously at Hermione.


	14. Expectations on a Staff Meeting

Expectations on a Staff Meeting

* * *

"The adequate response for this is expulsion from school!" Severus Snape's voice was just loud enough, to be overheard by someone right outside of the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore held back from frowning. How had Severus known that Minerva stood on the rotating staircase right now? And why did he have to strain this discussion before it even started?

"Don't be ridiculous!" The deputy headmistress burst into the room in a temper. "Nobody gets expelled from Hogwarts before their O.W.L.s. That would mean their wand would get snapped. Do I need to remind you that a wizard or witch without an Ordinary Wizarding Level is by default not allowed to own a wand?"

Albus noted that Minerva was wearing a plaid dressing gown. He had known from the very start this was a bad time to have this kind of conversation. His summon of Minerva in her role as Head of House Gryffindor had been reluctant as it was. He would have refrained from doing so if he had known that he was calling her out of bed.

"Did you find proof that someone named Weasley or Granger was involved?" Severus asked slyly. "Why else would you launch your small speech on not kicking someone out of Hogwarts before his or her O.W.L.s?"

This time Albus frowned. Severus could not really think that had been cunning. But why would he provoke his colleague? There was no good blood between them anyway. Minerva had become a teacher out of conviction. Maybe because she never had children of her own but there was nothing wrong with that reasoning in Albus' mind. For Minerva on the other hand it had been a slight when Severus had become a teacher. She had complained frequently for years about the way he treated students and still did from time to time.

Minerva huffed in annoyance. "Sybill could have guessed who you were talking about."

The comment vanished Severus' amused smile. Albus wondered for a moment if Severus thought that he had been bantering with Minerva.

Albus made sure to look at Minerva in disappointment. He had told his former apprentice more than once that her issues with divination were caused by a faulty perception on her part. Divination was a thing. Sybill Trelawney was a real seer and she was competent to teach the course.

"This can't be considered a prank! This was an open attack." Severus brought their meeting back on curse. "This is unacceptable. Punishments are due!"

Minerva sniffed in annoyance. "Do I guess right that you have no proof at all? If you had proof, you would rub my nose in it."

"The culprit is obvious." Severus hissed.

"Enlighten me then!" Minerva demanded. "Are the Weasley twins at fault? Or are you more angry with Miss Granger today? Or maybe Mr. Potter's non-existing arrogance is involved? Maybe they all conspired? Surely you have already pointed out to Albus that they all dislike Mr. Malfoy." Minerva started to really vent her anger: "But so does most of the student body. Tell me Severus: is there even a single student Mr. Malfoy has not offended by word or deed? I told you he needs to be shown that everything has consequences. By protecting him from the very first day you have encouraged his bad behavior!"

"If you want me to open your eyes to the truth, I will do so!" Severus ignored the criticism. "Potter and his pet-Weasley were not involved. They are both rash and would have cursed Mr. Malfoy in a shady corridor. Both of them lack the wits to set up an alibi for themselves. And I have never seen them perform magic that was not taught to them."

The potions master spoke faster and slightly louder so Minerva would not interrupt him: "Neither is this the doing of the Weasley twins. They can be subtle. And I know that they have set up false alibis before some of their so called pranks. However, what happened to Mr. Malfoy lacks the element of humiliation they favor so much. This assault was straight to the point. The message was overly clear because it was directed at everybody: Whoever dares to wear a badge will pay for it. Every element of this attack carries Granger's handwriting. Beginning at the way..."

"You want her to be at fault." The Head of House Gryffindor had enough of the monologue. "Miss Granger has become way better at handling problems with her peers. Nobody complained about her this or last term."

"Because all students are frightened of her!" Severus hissed frantically. "What good would a complain do them? Granger was not thoroughly punished since the end of second year."

"There has been no proof of her overstepping any rule for a long time. Only baseless accusations." Minerva announced impersonally. "And I like to think that her heroic deed at the end of second year convinced her peers to stop antagonizing her."

"It did convince them! It convinced them to evade confrontation with her at all costs." Severus corrected his colleague. "Granger is feared by her peers. And the outlandish stories about the basilisk do their bit." Snape looked at Albus. He had been the only one who had seen the dead monster. "The Weasley twins could have executed this scheme. However, they favor potions for anything that goes beyond a schoolyard jinx. And they are not as vile as Miss Ganger. She..."

"Excuse me?" Professor McGonagall almost screeched. "Miss Granger is not vile! She has just a little bit too much temperament."

Snape hissed: "She has temperament for a dozen witches!"

"Who declared you to be an expert on witches?" Minerva looked disdainfully at the greasy haired wizard. "You were unable to handle a single one! Albus has more experience with witches than you!"

Severus turned white.

Albus gasped: "Minerva!" He had thought his former student was better than that. Her insult had offended Severus feelings severely. Once more he felt that this meeting had been a bad idea. He should have called for it after breakfast. Maybe Severus would have held back with his snide remarks if all Heads of Houses had been present. And it would have definitely felt less like a summons to Minerva too.

The Scottish witch had the grace to look reprimanded. She grumbled "Sorry". Her arms were crossed defensively. "I want proof before I am willing to talk about punishment." She glared at Severus. "You have the badge. Check it."

The relatively young wizard looked at the elder witch. "The badge has burned down to cinder."

Minerva gasped in shock: "On Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes." Severus said monosyllabically. Only when Minerva's face had expressed all shades of emotions from sympathy to shame he explained: "The metal badge burned to cinder on Mr. Malfoys skin." He sneered. "Or to phrase it more exactly: It burned through his robe and through his skin all the way down to his bone." He added in a mean tone aimed at Minerva: "The badge got fused to the bone. Madam Pomfrey thought it would be best to vanish the rip in question and grow a new one."

A shudder ran through Minerva. She shook her head in denial: "Miss Granger has done so much better since the Yule Ball. I had my doubts at first. But Mr. Potter is a very positive influence on her." She shook her head once more. "You are wrong, she has never been vile. She was overly vindictive."

Dumbledore's long fingers drummed rhythmically on his table. Drawing the attention of both of his professors onto him. He asked his resident potions master: "Do you have any proof?"

The Head of House Slytherin drawled: "I could get proof in a matter of minutes."

Albus was aware of several means to accomplish such a task. One was more invasive than the other. None of them were suited for the use on a minor or anyone with a delicate mind. He asked warily: "What are you suggesting?"

Severus answered with a single word and he did not even try to justify his means: "Veritaserum."

"You can't be serious." McGonagall snapped. "The use of Veritaserum requires a ministerial directive! You would need Albus approval and mine to even stand a chance of gaining a permission to apply the potion."

"That is why you were called here." Severus answered briskly.

Minerva shook her head. "Just having Veritaserum applied to you, is a shock to the majority of people. Finding yourself unable to decide what you say is extremely unsettling! I don't want to expose a minor to such an experience. Under no circumstances will I approve of such measurements!"

Albus looked at Severus tiredly: "Have you found any proof?"

"It is unambiguous that Mr. Malfoy's badge was manipulated. Everything points at Miss Granger." Severus made his words sound like they were more than just very own thoughts but Minerva was far away from being persuaded.

"You say the badge was manipulated." The witch huffed in annoyance: "But Miss Granger stood no chance of getting a hold of the item even for a moment! Mr. Malfoy is snubbing muggleborns as soon as no one is around to take points from him. I can't imagine a scenario in which he would even touch an item Miss Granger would try to hand him."

Severus sneered. His mouth opened: "..."

"Don't you dare to say Imperius!" Minerva's voice was way too loud for indoors. It was the volume she had used on the Quidditch Pitch back in her time as a chaser. "The only one in this entire castle who has ever used an Unforgiveable are you!" At this point she was no longer caring for the most basic elements of politeness. She pointed her finger accusingly. "You are the only person on the grounds who could even use such a spell."

When the witch stood up abruptly, her chair scratched over the floor. "I say the badge's enchantments failed." Her tone was final. "Students enchanted hundreds of badges. One of them had to fail. It was just a question of time. If you are searching for a perpetrator, take a look in a mirror. I told the both of you to get rid of those badges. Let me say this very clearly: I will not approve of Veritaserum!"

The Head of Gryffindor House turned to leave.

Albus tried to stop her: "Minerva..."

The witch did stop but only to glare at him. "The matter is settled. Good night!" Needless to say that Minerva slammed the door shut.

A few headmasters in paintings complained about being woken at this hour of the night. The others faked waking up. Albus knew out of experience that their acting fooled nobody.

Severus glowered at all of them. "That is not how such an enchantment fails."

"I know. And so does she." Albus whispered tiredly. "But I understand her point. Technically you overstepped already by proposing the use of Veritaserum. You have not even circumstantial evidence never mind real proof. All you did was spout theories. If we applied Veritaserum like that we could use it always and on everyone. That is clearly against the regulations." He knew those regulations first hand. In his role as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he had formulated some of them. "And by suggesting the utilization of the Imperius Curse you have gone beyond any point of reasonable discussion. There was no sense in carrying on."

"You are both wrong." Snape warned. "Allowing Granger to go on like this is a very huge mistake!"

"Why are you after her?" Dumbledore asked straight to the point.

For once Severus kept his attitude in check and only said what he actually thought: "She is dangerous!"

They had argued over the young witch many times. They had never come to a mutual conclusion. Severus thought she was a Dark Witch in training. Albus was of the opinion that she was a misunderstood outsider. They would not settle the matter tonight. And there was no need to do so. At the end of the day Albus was in charge. It was his responsibility. Therefore it was his decision to make. He shook his head in denial. "You are free to investigate. With legal means only."

"That did not work." Snape snorted. "I checked everything before I came here. The badge is a dead end. And so is checking Mr. Malfoy's timetable. He has apparently not been alone for a single minute today. And Miss Granger has an alibi for all instances Mr. Malfoy has been out of the Slytherin common room."

"Maybe you are unable to find something because there is nothing." Albus suggested in strained optimism.

"I checked the enchantment on another badge! Simple Banner-Charm. Just letters appearing and disappearing in turns. That spellwork could never fail in the way we saw this afternoon. That is just impossible!" Snape snorted in disdain. "If it could, the imbeciles in the Quidditch stands would be in real trouble."

For a while there was silence. Severus waited patiently for Albus to give in. He usually followed the younger man's advice if he was out of options.

"No Veritaserum." Albus repeated once more. "I am serious about this, Severus." He stared intensely over his steepled fingers. "Minerva is right. Miss Granger has been doing better over the last months than ever. I have been waiting patiently for this for two years. And you will not hamper this positive development under any circumstances. And that includes any use of Legilimency."

Severus snorted: "Like I would use Legilimency on a student! I'd be in Azkaban before I could even deny the accusation." Severus stood abruptly. He turned to leave without a word of goodbye. His cloak billowed as he left Albus to the company of the portraits of former headmasters.

The current headmaster shook his head. He whispered. "Believe me: Azkaban would be the least of your worries."

He shuddered involuntarily. Now that he had been reminded of the end of the basilisk episode twice he was sure that the nightmare would return tonight. He had tried to overcome it. He had attempted to analyze his fear, relive the initial situation in his thoughts and to look at it from different angles. He had even used the Pensieve to watch himself in his memories. Anything to soothe his subconsciousness.

* * *

A/N: Grrobot eliminated a lot of mistakes. That is definitely worth a Thank you! However, once he was done I rewrote a number of passages.


	15. Once upon a time - A Basilisk

Once upon a time – A Basilisk

* * *

On the night of the basilisk incident Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had worn a striped nightgown in garish green and yellow colors. He had already been in bed, even though he had not been asleep when he was summoned by his deputy. Under normal circumstances the headmaster would have had this talk with Hermione Granger in his own office. But as the circumstances were quite extraordinaire, he had come to Minerva's office and heard a story worthy of being written down in 'Hogwarts: a History'.

"So, you are telling me there is no need to close Hogwarts." Dumbledore summarized. His fingers formed a tent. He stared over their tips at the young witch in front of him.

"Exactly." Hermione gave a sharp nod. Her thick hair tumbled around her shoulders. A few strands blocked her vision. Her hand pushed them back vigorously.

"Because you killed Slytherin's Monster, which was a basilisk." The headmaster repeated. He saw the young Gryffindor twitch. Her reputation as being short tempered was well earned. It was obvious that she hated to repeat herself. Which was a shame, as she could have become a good scholar or even teacher. Alas, in both occupations one needed to repeat one's point endlessly.

"Exactly." Hermione hissed through clenched teeth.

"Well..." Dumbledore sighed. He was about to do something which he really did not like. "You claim, that you killed a basilisk. But where is your proof? Don't get me wrong, all snippets of your story fit perfectly with everything that happened so far and what I know. Alas, I can hardly risk the entire student body on your word alone."

"What did you expect me to do? Drag the basilisk up here? You have no idea how big that corpse is!" Hermione barked. Her tone had crossed the fine line of offensive with a wide stride. "The fang is all I could get."

"I believe you." Dumbledore placated the young woman. He was not very successful at calming her temper. He was at best mediocre at handling witches – no matter his or their age. "It is good that you brought the fang. But we still have to believe you that the monster is dead."

"And how should I have gotten a hold of the basilisk's fang if it is not dead?" Hermione gestured angrily at the offending tooth. "Do you think the basilisk let go of it voluntarily?"

Instead of revealing a complex theory Dumbledore answered curtly: "Owl post."

"That is ridiculous." Hermione raged. "A basilisk fang send by owl post! Are you proposing that I ordered it out of a catalog for potion supplies? You have to show me that one!"

The headmaster smiled mildly. "But a thirteen year old girl killing a monster, which is considered to be as dangerous as a dragon, is perfectly reasonable?"

"That is what happened." Hermione grumbled. She was justifiably enraged for getting forced into a circle of repeating her story.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. He was not going to proof the young Gryffindor wrong by contradicting herself if she told him the truth. "We have a serious problem. You are not telling me the full truth and your proof is not strong enough for the gravity of this situation. However, I believe your story. I think you really saved the school. Alas, your feat will be for naught because of your weak proof. Almost everybody would be willing to take my word on the matter. But the same does sadly not apply to you."

Hermione crossed her arms impatiently. "You are about to propose something. What is it?"

"A spell to prove that you are telling the truth." Dumbledore said with a twinkle.

"What kind of spell?" The second year asked warily.

Dumbledore understood instinctively that Hermione would not accept his proposal. But he could always claim that he had misunderstood her question. It was the overall best plan he could come up with on short notice. He had his wand out before the girl could react. He planned to take a quick glimpse and do nothing invasive. "Legilimens!"

Albus knew that Hermione's adventure was still in her short time memory and therefore easy to access. He pulled at a string. Even though it was no string at all, not even one of the metaphorical sort. Whatever it was, it was linked to a present feeling: Hermione was sated.

The headmaster pulled at this something which nobody had named yet. He saw a memory of this evening's meal. Like all pieces in the short term memory it was still linked to the things which had happened before and afterwards. Dumbledore followed the path of progressing time. Even though it was no path at all, yet again there was no adequate word.

Each mind was unique. Hermione's held great potential but Dumbledore also found it to be difficult to handle. All of the girl's thoughts were sticky. A single one was glued to dozens of others. If he pulled at one of them, snippets of information, ideas and corresponding concepts would follow like an avalanche. Shifting through this needed caution and subtlety. Dumbledore realized, Hermione's mental abilities could be easily buried by this exceptional memory.

The headmaster skimmed over the things following the feeling of having a full stomach. Neither had he time to look at everything in detail nor did he want to invade the girls privacy anymore than he actually needed to. He saw Hermione walk to the library. He watched her flip through books about magical beasts.

When he skimmed over memories worth of hours in the library, suspicion arose in Dumbledore. He was very aware of the fact, that Hermione loved Hogwarts. Despite her current problems at fitting in, she would definitely lie to keep the school from closing. Maybe he should have checked the fang more thoroughly? Curfew came closer. Albus watched Madam Pince sent Hermione back to her dorm. When she went straight to the witch's loo, Dumbledore skipped a little something.

He found himself trapped in some sort of mental defense mechanism. There was darkness and a disgusting smell. It was a very tricky trap. If he concentrated on his eyes to overcome the darkness or used his hand to pinch his nose shut he might break their mental connection. Beyond its subtlety the trap was easy to handle. For that reason he came to the conclusion that Hermione's subconsciousness was confronting him with one of its basic fears.

His experiences in Legilimency came in handy right then. Dumbledore had kept a hold onto the string which lead further down the path of progressing time. He just had to pull intently on it to overcome this obstacle.

There was not even a hint of a warning for what happened next. He saw the basilisk through Hermione's eyes. It filled the major part of the her vision. Dumbledore stumbled backwards – in a metapsychological sense. By a hairbreadth he was able to hold onto the mental link.

Chiding himself for getting terrified by a very clear and lifelike memory, the old wizard gathered his wits. When he tried to proceed with his examination, he was pushed back. Out of experience Albus knew this could either happen unconsciously thanks to the memory being off-putting or Hermione could be denying him access consciously.

He pushed harder and was rewarded with another glimpse at the basilisk. He received a painful stab at the same time. There was no way of misinterpreting this: Hermione had become aware of their struggle for mental dominance. And the stakes had been raised dramatically. However Albus was a master of Legilimency. He could handle the girls attacks for a while. He diverted the stabs at relatively useless memories of himself teaching classes decades ago.

Aiming at the memory of the basilisk, Dumbledore reentered Hermione's mind. He found her standing in a cavern like room with a high ceiling and a statue of an ugly man. As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he recognized it without a doubt as a self portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

Somehow Hermione had managed to gain access to the legendary Chamber of Secrets. And right in the middle of it lay the dead basilisk. The enormous serpent did neither breath or move. Its deadly eyes stared blindly and its jaw appeared to be unhooked.

Dumbledore needed a while to notice, that the memory around him had grown rigid like a sculpture. He was surprised to encounter yet another mental defense mechanism.

Following a scary thought, Dumbledore checked his own mind. Setting up a frozen thought for someone to look at, was often accompanied by a subtle attack of Legilimency. Luckily Hermione had remained inactive on that front. However, the mental knife was still shredding sixty year old memories of transfiguration classes.

The time had come for Dumbledore to demonstrate, why he was a master of Legilimency. He was able to accelerate a stiff thought back into motion. He gave the equivalent of a mighty push.

Alas, his mind slipped of the frozen memory. This could have become very problematic. If he had lost contact to Hermione's mind due to his own momentum, his Legilimency attack would have ended. At this point it was anything but certain that he could return here. Luckily the experienced wizard was able to stay in contact.

The young witch was more determined and competent than he had expected. He aimed his next push better and overcame Hermione's countering pressure. Alas, the memory did not spring into motion. Dumbledore slipped in a manner which he would call - for a lack of a better word - sideways.

Ironically he slid out of Hermione's frozen memory and straight into a pit of mental fire.

Dumbledore was one century and an additional year old but the following sensation was completely new for him. He got exposed to a pain he had never felt before. It was everywhere: Smoldering on the edges of his consciousness, torching his sumptuous collection of experiences and threatening to scorch highly valued abilities. His mind retreated in shock.

Dumbledore was left with two very clear snippets of memories and a bunch of blurry pictures. The first clear moment was about Hermione finishing her meal feeling sated and satisfied. The other was about the young witch standing in front of an unmoving basilisk. He could feel her elation over the knowledge that the creature was dead.

Unlike waking up, it took him a deliberate effort to regain his conscience. When he did, he stared at the tip of Hermione's wand. His fingers twitched around nothing and the familiar weight in his sleeve was not to be felt.

"Explain to me, what just happened!" Hermione hissed irately.

Dumbledore realized, there was no way to decline that demand. Not with a glowing wand aimed at his face by a witch who recently killed a basilisk. So he chose to introduce the furious girl to the concepts of Legilimency and Occlumency. "I used Legilimency to take a look at your thoughts. To see what you have seen previously."

"What?" Hermione screeched. Her wand inched threateningly closer. "You can see my thoughts?"

"No more." Dumbledore hurried to assure her. "You are now able to use Occlumency. Nobody can read your mind anymore."

"Occlumency?" Hermione asked with a mixture of doubt and curiosity.

"Occlumency is the art of mental defense." Dumbledore explain eagerly. Each of his words brought him closer to regain control of the situation. "It secures a mind against Legilimency and undermines a lot of other mental magics like the Confundus Charm."

Hermione frowned. "And I learned it just because you used Legilimency? That is not very effective."

The headmaster recognized that Hermione was favoring to doubt him. There was only one method to convince her - keep on talking: "There are two ways of learning Occlumency. The slow and very fickle one is by reading books and trying to find a mental state which words fail to describe. Any explanation of either Legilimency or Occlumency makes only sense to someone who has experienced them before. It is the old problem of explaining colors to a blind person."

Hermione listened attentively. "And the second method?"

"You performed it just now." Dumbledore told the young student. "The second method condenses down to something which muggles like to summarize as learning-by-doing. Something you have mastered just now and on your very first attempt. I guess congratulations are in order."

Hermione had calmed down over the short lecture. Her wand was no longer aimed at Dumbledore's head but his chest. "So it is unusual that I learned Occlumency so fast?"

"Very unusual indeed." Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I think it is a combination of circumstances coming together. On the one hand you have an exceptional mind and a memory most people only dream of."

When the wise wizard pretended to stare absently Hermione pressed him to go on: "And?"

"On the other hand the memory I wanted to access must really frighten you." Dumbledore looked questioningly at his student. She offered no reaction. "You must not be ashamed. Everyone in your place would have been frightened of the basilisk."

Hermione nodded stiffly.

Dumbledore watched the witch closely. It was obvious to someone of his age that she did not trust herself to give something away. Something she wanted to keep a secret at all costs. He kept on explaining: "Memories linked to strong negative emotions are especially useful for learning Occlumency. The subconsciousness pushes them away reflexively and thus demonstrates one of the basic concepts of Occlumency to an attentive mind."

Still busy with herself Hermione nodded again.

"If you want to, I could summon a book about it for you." He shrugged his shoulders non-committally. "Even though there is little left for you to learn about Occlumency."

As expected, the proof was demanded: "Do it."

Dumbledore picked his wand up. He had noticed it, lying on the floor. He swished it and non-verbally summoned a grimoire out of his private collection.

By now Hermione was only holding and no longer aiming her wand. Once the book was handed over, Dumbledore glanced at her brown eyes and knew, that something that was called shield was in place. And behind the Shield she held a knife, willing to stab any uninvited visitor. And a fire. Dumbledore shuddered. He didn't even want to imagine what kind of damage her fire could do to a mind. It was hard enough to mend what a mental knife cut. Would the fire burn his thoughts? Could a mind boil and evaporate? Or would his being have melted away if he had stayed any longer in contact to the fire?

Even superficial Legilimency could be very dangerous from now on. Dumbledore made a mental note to warn the other Legilimens in the castle.

While Dumbledore reflected upon Hermione's surprising talent at Occlumency, she opened the book at a random page, read a paragraph and went back for the first page, where she skimmed the table of contents. When she had verified satisfactory, that the book was no fake and Occlumency did exist, she shut it. "Will Hogwarts stay open?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Yes. I will show the board of governors, the dead basilisk in my Pensieve. It can visualize memories for people unable to perform Legilimency."

"Good." Hermione made an attempt at standing up.

She was delayed, when Dumbledore spoke once more: "Just one more thing."

Hermione kept quiet. Her tense shoulders made Legilimency unnecessary. She was alert.

"Please no evasive answer this time. How exactly did you kill the basilisk?"

Hermione hesitated minimally: "I made a summoned rooster crow."

"Marvelous." Dumbledore praised. He noticed the flicker of elation on her face. Combined with the small hesitation it could mean only one thing: He had just been lied to.

"If that was all, I will …" Hermione started.

"Just one more thing." Dumbledore held the witch back. Her fingers cramped around her wand. "A hundred points to Gryffindor."

Hermione left in a haste. Dumbledore could not blame her. The young witch wanted to get away from him.

Once the door of Minerva's office fell shut, Albus slumped down. Not his head but his mind hurt. He wanted to go to sleep. Alas, he had no time to waste. He had to make up a story that would pay the due respect to Hermione but would allow him at the same time to claim he had witnessed the demise of the basilisk.

All he had to work with was a memory of the already dead basilisk and one of its two fangs. Deep in thought Dumbledore added: And a witch whose mind could not be read. There would be a lot of questions like: Why could he not lead someone down into the Chamber of secrets?

The wise wizard thought that problem over for a moment before he found an adequate solution. He would claim the Chamber of Secrets had collapsed.

Now he only had to make up a half-way plausible story for the governors.


	16. The Final Task

The Final Task

* * *

Ron had a tendency of being oblivious to certain details in life. However, he did notice when his best friend only pushed the food on his plate around. Somehow, he managed to empty his stuffed mouth in a single, very audible gulp. "What's up?"

"I am not hungry." Harry murmured and put his silverware down.

"Harry, you've to eat something!" The red-haired wizard said forcefully. "You don't want to have your stomach growling at you while you're busy with the Third Task!" Ron's hand squeezed Harry's shoulder encouragingly. "You can do it! You can win! You just have to take a risk here and there and you'll catch up to Krum and Fleur in no time. You'll see!"

Harry glared at the redhead. Taking risks? He had never wanted to participate. And he would most certainly not take risks to win! Harry was very close to saying this aloud; however, he refrained from doing so. He was not in the right mood for talking.

The reason behind this was what had been happening the past few nights. They had been awful and filled with little sleep. Nightmares plagued him whenever he closed his eyes. He was really stressed out by the tournament. This stress combined with his nightmares had strengthened his resolve to play the Third Task safe.

Harry shivered. His dreams had been about the first and second task:

In his nightmare about the first task, he got smashed by the Hungarian Horntail. However, the dream had not been about the actual task. It was the aftermath. Harry had seen himself disfigured by the magical fire and permanently confined to a wheelchair because of a broken spine.

The dream about the Second Task had been even more distressing. He had seen Madam Pomfrey pulling a sheet over Hermione's face. The young witch's skin had had a grey tint, her lips blue and her eyes unseeing. Dumbledore had looked at him in disappointment and revealed that Hermione had died because Harry had misheard the clues given by the Golden Egg.

While Harry was brooding, Ron tried to motivate him: "Come on, Harry. Just start with a sausage!"

Food was the least of Harry's worries. He was about to tell Ron off when a girl's voice announced, "He's right. You have to eat something."

Harry blinked at the other side of the table. Hermione Granger stood behind Dean and Seamus, very alive. Her skin was rosy - probably from storming down several flights of stairs - and her eyes shone in that self-complacent way which announced that she was very pleased with herself.

Nobody took notice of her smugness. All Gryffindors within earshot had fallen silent. It was hard for them to accept what they had just heard. Hermione Granger had said Ron Weasley was right about something.

Dean and Seamus were openly gaping at the witch. Parvati and Lavender pinched each other's cheeks, to make sure they were awake. Meanwhile, Katie Bell was drilling both of her ears. The magically-transformed jaws of Fred and George had actually hit the table.

"What is the matter?" Hermione snapped. She was still standing right behind Seamus and Dean. The young witch had drawn her wand before someone understood that she was not relating to everyone's reaction. She swished her wand left and right. Dean and Seamus slid in opposite directions on the long bench next to the house table, thus freeing the spot across from Harry.

"I am not in the mood for food." Harry replied gloomily.

"Hogwash!" Hermione pushed an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. "You can choose: Either you eat voluntarily or I will force you!"

Since Dean and Seamus had pulled their plates aside, Hermione sat in front of an empty patch of table, a circumstance that did not impress the witch at all. She looked around and summoned a soup plate plus cutlery, shortly followed by a huge silver bowl.

"Chicken soup!" she announced. She pointed her wand and Harry's plate vanished with a muttered spell. A swish of her wand made the ladle in the silver bowl fill both of their plates.

It felt like an order when Hermione said, "Enjoy your meal!" She set a good example and lowered her spoon into her soup.

The youngest champion ate without real appetite. However, this dish found acceptance from his rumbling stomach. He had stared at his empty bowl for a while when Ron elbowed him roughly. Harry glared at him, and the redhead nodded wordlessly in Hermione's direction.

Harry glanced at his girlfriend. Her brown eyes were staring intensely at him. In fact, everyone was staring at him. At least, the students sitting close around him were not chatting animatedly. Their faces wore worried expressions.

"Come along!" was all Hermione said before she got up and marched off.

Privacy seemed to be the main goal of a short but swift walk. Once they had entered an empty classroom, Hermione twirled her wand and whispered a barrage of incantations. Harry recognized a few of them: "Colloportus!", "Muffliato!" and "Homenum Revelio!"

The bespectacled wizard waited impatiently for her to finish. "Where have you been all morning?"

Before Hermione could get a word in, the dam burst and Harry poured out everything that had peeved him that day. "You said you had to do something but not that it would take this long. I was worried! For all I know, you could have been taken hostage again." Worry was replaced by frustration: "Everyone – and I mean everyone! – bugged me all day long. First years asked me about my plan! I told all of them I am planning to survive the Third Task! Did they believe me?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"No! Some students had the nerve to keep on asking me. They tried to persuade me that they would keep it a secret. Others winked at me like we were already sharing some secret! Some even said that I was arrogant to not tell them!" Harry looked at the witch and said in a weary voice, "I'd have really appreciated your company."

Hermione was barely able to hold her impatience in check: "Have you quite finished?"

"Yeah." Harry shuffled his feet. He had to remind himself that Hermione was not at fault. "Sorry about that, but literally everyone has been getting on my nerves!"

Hermione's features relaxed visibly, and so did Harry's. Brown eyes peered at him. "You didn't sleep well?"

Harry was not overly surprised. Even Ron had noticed that he had been glum right after getting out of bed. The Gryffindor revealed hesitantly, "Actually, I've had nightmares. Today and yesterday."

"It will be alright. Those were just dreams." Hermione said sympathetically. Thankfully, she chose not to ask what those dreams were about.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I know." He heard the small waver in his voice and ground his teeth in annoyance.

"Stop grinding your teeth!" Hermione hissed.

"Sorry." Harry said instantly. They stared at each other for a moment. "So... what did you do?"

Hermione's face lit up. "I enchanted something for you." She answered excitedly. "I could only do so today, because the wards around the school got changed in preparation of the Third Task."

"What did you enchant?" Harry asked in a mixture of curiosity and wariness. He was only allowed to take his wand into the maze. Potions, plants with magical properties, and all other enchanted items had been banned from the final task.

Hermione beamed, "I made a portkey!"

Harry had a very clear memory of that magical mode of transportation from the World Cup. Once he had shivered, he frowned at the witch. "I can't cheat so blatantly to win the tournament."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "I said nothing about winning. I made an emergency portkey for you!"

"Oh!" Harry felt his face becoming warm. He cleared his throat. "That sounds like a sensible idea." Hermione smirked at him. He stretched his hand out. "So, will you give me the portkey?"

The witch rolled her eyes.

"Naturally..." She started rummaging in the chest pocket of her school uniform. It was much larger than it ought to be; her whole hand fit easily inside without making it bulge.

"A ring?" The young wizard asked, clearly intimidated.

"Yes. A ring." Hermione replied sharply. "Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all!" Harry hastily assured his girlfriend. He was not very convincing though. A short moment later he asked, "Are you aware of what everybody will think once they see it on my hand?"

Hermione had the good grace to turn beet-red. "It's not like that at all! I am not wearing a ring after all." She showed her hand off.

"That is true." Harry had to give her that point. "But why a ring?"

"It is convenient." Hermione said stubbornly. "You cannot lose a ring. And it will always be at the ready."

The word 'handy' flashed in Harry's mind. "You have to admit, it is kind of odd." He added hesitantly. "Maybe a wristband would have been a better choice?"

Hermione double-blinked in surprise. Harry groaned.

"Nobody will suspect a ring." Hermione crossed her arms defiantly. "Plus you have never worn a wristband before."

"Neither have I worn a ring!" Harry whined.

Hermione's nostrils flared. "You can easily explain why you're suddenly wearing a ring. A wristband, on the other hand, is awkward."

"And here I thought it wasn't like that." Harry muttered under his breath.

"Well it is not!" Hermione said once more. "But you can claim it is like that if you get cornered about the ring!"

Harry rubbed his temples. His girlfriend had to be the most disputatious person ever. He stole a glance at her. She was kind of adorable when she got irate. Her eyes almost sparkled due to her intensity, her cheeks and her lips were flushed, and her hair looked like it actually bristled. "Fine. It's alright for me if it's alright for you!"

Her bushy mane moved when Hermione nodded sharply. "It's alright." She reached for Harry's left hand and, without further ado, put the ring onto the finger, which was named after the purpose of wearing it. Harry was still busy blushing when Hermione drew her wand and whispered: "Reducio!"

Harry watched the ring shrink until it fit snugly. He could certainly not lose it now that it did not fit over the joint of his finger. The young wizard held up his hand to inspect his new possession more closely. The black material reminded him of stone, the surface of the ring was polished. It reflected the outline of the windows. "What's this made of?"

"Onyx." In reaction to Harry's questioning gaze the witch added: "That's a mineral."

"And where did you get it?" Harry asked curiously. "Is it transfigured or conjured?"

"Neither transfigured nor conjured items can be enchanted. Therefore, they are unusable for portkeys." Hermione lectured. "The ring is part of my supply kit for runes."

Harry accepted the explanation like so many before. "How do I use it?"

"At this very moment the portkey is inactive," Hermione went on with her lecture. "To activate it, you poke it with your wand and say 'Portus!'"

"Where will the portkey take me?"

Hermione replied: "It will transport you to a spot in front of the maze. Madam Pomfrey and some professors should be waiting there."

"I guess you'll be there, too?"

Hermione huffed, "Obviously."

He smiled lopsidedly. "If I'm out of tricks, I'll use the ring."

Her brown eyes focused on Harry. Hermione stressed, "This is for real emergencies only! This is an illegal magical item. Its sole existence is a violation of various laws about the regulation of magical transportation."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I'll pay a fine than."

Hermione showed off one finger: "Magical transportation." She added a second one and said, "For obvious reasons I had to make the portkey untraceable." A third finger rose: "On top of that, the portkey is not some kind of rubbish but an actual item a muggle would willingly touch. That could be taken as muggle-baiting." Her fourth finger joined: "Plus, the target location of the portkey is Hogwarts, which is exempted from regular magical transportation. If that would be summed up, we are no longer talking about a fine, but Azkaban!"

"I'm sure Dumbledore would turn a blind eye." Harry said to Hermione, who nervously chewed on her bottom lip. "After all, I am the Boy Who Lived," he teased.

Hermione half-smiled at the comical pun. "You are probably right."

"I am!" Harry stepped a bit closer to Hermione. Being close to her soothed his nerves. "No need to worry. I'll be fine. We trained a lot. We talked over what I can do and what I shouldn't even try." Harry raised his hand to show off his new ring. "And this is for real emergencies only."

Instead of letting his left hand sink down, Harry cupped Hermione's cheek. He whispered "Promise!" Then, he leaned in for a quick peck.

Hermione reciprocated eagerly, pushing Harry against one of the tables. She leaned in to kiss him in earnest. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed her body up against his.

Harry kissed back, but he was not really into it. His mind was still in a turmoil. He tried to tune their kiss down. His hands felt for her midriff, and he tried to nudge her gently away.

The brunette witch misunderstood his intentions, though, and relocated his hands to her chest. Harry pulled them back and, this time, pushed her away, breaking their kiss.

Brown eyes stared perplexedly into his green ones. "Not now," he whispered hoarsely.

Hermione looked hurt. She had never been rebuffed by him before. "I just wanted to take your mind off of things."

"That's really nice, but I don't want that right now."

"Sorry," Hermione whispered faintly.

"Please, don't be sorry. It's just… not the right time." Harry tried to explain.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No!" Harry said hurriedly. After a moment of awkwardly standing around, he gestured for the windows displaying the Scottish mountainside. "Maybe we can just sit with each other until the task begins?"

Hermione nodded in agreement and put Cushioning charms onto one of the uncomfortable benches. They sat down and held hands.

Somehow, Harry ended up napping, his head in her lap. At least that was the explanation he came up with when Hermione shook him awake. Maybe the last sleep-deprived nights had taken their toll on him.

Some students took notice of the couple's absence. Some of them even bothered to argue whether they were doing some last minute training or preparing some trickery to win. A witch put a stop to the argument. She pointed out that Harry and Hermione were a boy and a girl, and probably very busy doing girl-boy-stuff.

At the appointed time, Harry appeared in front of the labyrinth. His House-mates clapped his shoulder and generally wished him good luck. Padma and Lavender giggled madly after they had given him a good luck kiss each.

For some reason, Molly and Bill Weasley were there as well. They had arrived right after lunch. Molly fussed over Harry and hugged him repeatedly. She even swished her wand and unwrinkled his school uniform.

Some students chuckled at her treatment of Harry, or maybe at the numerous Weasleys standing around him and turning slightly pink over their mother? Whatever it was, Harry did not mind at all. Once more, he wondered if this was what having a mother would be like.

"Show them what you are made of!" Ron said with fire in his eyes.

"That is a rather unfortunate choice of words." Hermione remarked. She was not overly loud but her voice's sharpness was a contrast to everyone else's chitchat.

A somber mood replaced the giddy euphoria upon the reminder of the dangers lying ahead of Harry.

Hermione glared at everyone in turn. One after the other, the Gryffindors got the message. A few last words of encouragement were muttered. Molly was dragged away by her twins. The couple was left in as much privacy as one could expect while standing in front of stands filled by a gaping crowd.

Harry's less-than-ordinary talent at predicting the future did not stop him from foreseeing that Hermione was not about to cheer him on. "Do not put your life on the line. It is worth more than a pouch of gold." Harry wanted to comment at that, but Hermione beat him to it: "Give one or two obstacles a go, but take your time. Play it safe. And if you find yourself in grave danger, I expect you to use the you-know-what!"

Harry could not suppress a crooked grin: "I thought it was tradition that pretty women served as inspiration for young men and their heroic deeds."

A small smile graced Hermione's lips. "I guess I'm not very traditional." She cleared her throat. "In fact, I am a witch. Therefore, I know a lot of curses that can make your life significantly less pleasurable. And I feel obliged to warn you: Do not play the hero!"

Harry chuckled softly. A few months ago these words would have intimidated him. He made a big show of looking to the right. "I think Cho is encouraging Cedric." The mentioned couple was snogging heavily. "Meanwhile I am getting threatened by my own girlfriend." Harry asked melodramatically: "Whatever did I do wrong?"

Hermione shrugged. "This is what happens if you invite girls to Christmas balls."

Instantly, Harry became serious. "I'm really glad I did."

Hermione smiled timidly. She leaned forward and hugged Harry tightly. It felt like she was about to break his ribs. "Be careful!" she whispered and breathed a wisp of a kiss onto his lips.

"Promise!" Harry called at Hermione's retreating back.

The first speech was launched once the witch was gone. All three Ministers of Magic were scheduled to say a few words. Each one of them used the opportunity to drone on and on about themes that had, at best, peripheral importance to the Triwizard Tournament. The applause at the end of their speeches was probably due to them finishing and not about what they had said.

Finally, Dumbledore stepped forward. He made some motherhood statements about cooperation and bonds of friendship. Then, he explained in a few short words that "the difference in points between the four champions will be equal to the difference of minutes between their starts," and that "the Champions have all proven that they are extraordinary students." The headmaster finished with two simple words: "Good luck!"

Ludo Bagman took over. He stated the starting order for the audience. Harry was supposed to be the third starter. He would precede Cedric by a single minute. Which in turn was half the difference of points between Victor Krum and Fleur Delacour.

Viktor Krum was the first to go over to the golden starting line, which had been drawn by Dumbledore's wand.

"The final task of the Triwizard Task starts now!" The bang of a cannon followed Ludo Bagman's words.

Viktor Krum did not run off as fast as his legs could carry him.

Everyone held his breath while the professional seeker stretched his arms. Once he was done he looked at his headmaster who in turn gestured for him to get going. Viktor jogged lazily into the maze. It looked like he did not care at all about the victory. He turned right at the very first opportunity.

"Have you seen that?" Ludo Bagman's loud voice boomed in surprise. "Viktor Krum must be very confident in his abilities. That start was way too casual for my liking! He wasted almost half a minute."

The students of the three schools and the numerous guests of honor murmured in consent.

"Or did he do that for a reason?" Ludo Bagman's magically enhanced voice asked suspiciously. "Did he spare his headmaster a look for a reason? Could it in fact be, that Victor Krum thinks - like so many other wizards and witches - that his lead is not earned by skill but by Igor Karkaroff's biased awarding-of-points in the two previous tasks? Is Victor Krum a fair sportsman after all? Is he trying to even the odds by dawdling?"

The crowd was electrified by Bagman's suggestion. Some wizards even started to chant Krum's name.

Only when Argus Filch fired his cannon for the second time was the chanting replaced by cheers for the French champion.

"And there goes Fleur Delacour." Ludo Bagman's loud voice announced. "She was supposed to start two full minutes after Viktor Krum, but his start was seriously delayed. Will our only female contestant be able to take the chance?"

Fleur did not falter when the cannon was fired. She sprinted the distance to the maze at top speed. She was determined to win.

The witch ran into the trap at full speed, unable to stop. All she could do was to throw herself face first to the ground. A spell or curse raced through the zone she would have been in, had she been on her feet.

Everyone gasped at once. Ludo Bagman cried, "What was that?"

The witch rolled around. Once more she was barely able to evade a streak of colored light.

"What is going on?" Bagman voiced everyone's confusion.

Two more streaks of light had to be evaded before some sort of explanation was offered. Fleur waved her wand and yelled, "Homenum Revelio!"

Viktor Krum became visible. Harry guessed that the Bulgarian had disillusioned himself once he had been out of sight.

The Bulgarian wizard fired another curse. It singed the patch of grass Fleur had stood on. The French witch was once more able to evade his attack. This time by showing off her flexibility. She rolled backwards and stood up in a fluid motion that strongly reminded Harry of a gymnast he had seen on TV once.

Shrieks and gasps could be heard from the audience. Nobody had expected the final task to turn into a duel. Ludo Bagman tried to run a commentary, but he had no idea which spells the two teens were firing at each other. The audience was simply too loud to overhear anything.

Fleur's performance was outstanding as she weathered the first onslaught by evading Krum's spells. As the duel went on, she switched to shielding and countering Viktor's attacks. Her proficiency was very apparent.

Viktor had not been able to capitalize on the ambush he had set. However, he displayed that he could do more than ride a broom. Krum was a sports star for a reason. Thanks to his supreme reflexes, he managed to sidestep each and every of Fleur's counterstrikes.

The Beauxbatons champion was not dense. She noticed the inefficiency of her tactic quickly and switched to transfigurations. She turned the ground into mud and the grass into thorns.

Viktor had to either dispel these magical traps or step back and give up on the advantage of the close range and his superior reflexes. He retreated but started casting even more fiercely.

In turn, Fleur animated the hedges.

Viktor set them aflame. Furiously, he sent a curse in Fleur's direction, which she was, for once, unable to block. It went straight through her shield.

A chilled blue light hit the witch's belly. She fell to her knees, and her face distorted as she screamed so loud it could be heard over the hubbub of the audience.

Harry noticed three Healers in white robes standing right outside of the maze. They were looking at the judges, waiting on edge for permission to help Fleur.

Sure of his victory, Viktor lowered his wand. He was no longer expecting the wailing witch to fight back. He stared at her in shock, though. Perhaps he had only realized in hindsight what he had done.

There was no warning for him. Fleur glanced upwards. Her wand whipped in Viktor's general direction. A burst of magic surged at him.

Before the Bulgarian sports star could process that the fight was still on, he was hit. He stumbled backwards into the still burning hedge.

Shrieks and cries could be heard from the stands. The Healers outside of the maze did not wait a second longer for permission. They hurried over to the two fallen champions and pulled Viktor out of the blazing hedge that was holding him tight. They quenched his burning robes, and, before anyone could get a clear look at the struggling young man, he and two Healers vanished through magical means.

Harry saw Bill Weasley run past him. He barked at an ministry official, "Let me pass! I'm a Curse-Breaker!" He kneeled beside the third Healer who was treating Fleur.

"That was a Pyrrhic dueler's draw!" Ludo Bagman exclaimed excitedly. "Both duelists became unable to proceed before an impartial judge could count to fifty-seven!"

Harry shivered. The wizard was absolutely unfazed by two injured students.

In fact, nobody seemed to really care. Some people even had the nerve to applaud! Harry turned his head and looked at the stands. The students looked excited and unworried. Once again, Harry felt like an attraction in a zoo.

* * *

A/N: So, joanne's thriller has beta-read this chapter. And I think she did a very good job. We even managed to make some creative decisions on elements of the text. Therefore I am hopefully looking forward!


	17. Harry's Final Task

Harry's Final Task

* * *

Harry was weighing his options. Due to Krum and Fleurs' elimination, the odds had changed dramatically. Both of the foreign contestants had been far ahead. Suddenly, victory was a possibility. Harry tried to guess which course of action offered him the better chance of winning.

Harry was very tempted to follow Victor's example. A duel seemed safe in comparison to entering the huge maze and its unknown dangers. Once more, Madam Pomfrey stood in viewing range, prepared to offer her healing skills.

The Gryffindor glanced at Cedric. The blonde Hufflepuff, in turn, looked expectantly at him, almost like he wanted a duel to happen.

Harry glanced at the maze. He had prepared for hours upon hours to finish it. He had studied beasts and how to subdue or sneak past them. He knew how to detect magical traps. He told himself that he could do this. He would be very cautious. He was allowed to shoot red sparks to get saved, and he told himself that he would not hesitate to do so. And if he hit rock bottom, he still had the emergency Portkey.

The Gryffindor had changed his mind four or five times about his course of action when the cannon banged for a third time. It announced that his starting time had come. Just like Fleur, Harry sprinted to the entrance of the maze and, just like Viktor before him, he took the first crossroad to vanish between the hedges.

Muttering spells like "Specialis Revelio!", Harry rushed through the first passage of the maze. The hedges stood tall on either side of him.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, not due to a trap or a monster blocking his way but because of a long, straight pathway in front of him. At the far end of it, he saw a hedge and over the rim of that hedge, he saw the tower-like Quidditch stands. Three of them were offering students and guests alike a clear view at him.

A scowl on his face, he looked around the last corner. This pathway was straight as well. It was also significantly shorter. Looking down this way, he could make out another stand. The spectators on it could barely glance over the edge of this hedge.

The stands were not very far away, but Harry could not make out any details to distinguish them or the people sitting in them. He was also unable to hear anyone.

The bespectacled wizard became very self-aware. He had not expected that his every step would be under scrutiny. Everyone was looking at him... Harry tried to tell himself that this was not different than a regular Quidditch match. Surprisingly, the thought calmed his nerves. He shifted his focus back to the problem at hand.

Harry had an easy plan to follow: check the direction and evade problems. Whenever he found a trap, he would turn around and take another way. Hermione's explanation was lengthy, stating that it was a waste of time to invest time disarming a clever trap in a shifting parkour if you could simply take another way.

Following that advice, Harry turned his back onto the first piece of spell work he ran into. It twisted his detection charm upside down. He had no idea at all what that meant! Upon his retreat, he found the last crossing changed. It was even an advantageous shift of hedges. "Point me!" revealed to Harry that he could move north thanks to the new path. It lead him closer to the center of the maze.

Because of his persistent casting of detection charms, Harry moved relatively slow through the maze. A few corners later Harry heard something rustle behind him. He turned around just in time to see the hedges closing.

"Perfect setup!" groaned Harry quietly. He snuck even more cautiously to the next bend; despite being pants at Divination, Harry found his prediction to be correct. He peeked around the corner and found a Blast-Ended Skrewt blocking his way.

Harry thought that, maybe, the judges had interfered since he had not encountered a single obstacle so far. His options were limited: hiding and waiting for the maze to shift once more was viable if he assumed that the last shift had happened accidentally.

Since he thought that this was a setup and had happened deliberately, it would presumably not work. He could either hide until Cedric reached the cup or go forward. Waiting was not a very attractive option. The judges could choose to intervene once more or the Blast-Ended Skrewt could notice him. Harry came to the conclusion that he had no choice. He stepped around the corner and faced the 10 foot long creature with its magically-resistant armor.

The long scorpion tail curled over the Skrewt's back.

The champion hesitated. The beast did not turn to face him. It simply sat there blocking the path with the length of its body. Its tail lifted occasionally.

The young wizard had worked on the ill-tempered creatures all year. He had still no idea what this Blast-Ended Skrewt was planning, or if it was planning anything at all.

Harry ruffled his messy hair in confusion. Had the Blast-Ended Skrewt not taken notice of him? Was it even deliberately blocking the path? Did it not care about his presence? It was really hard to tell with a creature that had no eyes.

It did not matter in the end; Harry did not dare to try his luck and sneak past the magical beast. He aimed his wand carefully and muttered "Stupefy!" His voice didn't falter, and his spell came out successfully. A bright red bolt hit the unprotected belly of the creature, causing it to collapse. Harry sighed, relieved.

The bespectacled wizard had just realized that he had to step over the limp body of the beast when another Blast-Ended Skrewt appeared to take a look or sniff of his comrade. The passed out Skrewt sent his conscious cousin instantly into a fury. A loud bang was all the warning Harry got. The creature catapulted itself at him.

Harry had supreme reflexes, so there was a chance that he could have evaded a collision with the monster; however, his knowledge of the creature's abilities was worth a stash of gold. He stepped to the side in an offhand manner and allowed the enraged Blast-Ended Skrewt to skid past him.

It crash landed in the hedge. The beast was half-stuck in the plants. Harry took advantage of this and sent a stunner at its belly. The Skrewt went limp.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He turned around in time to watch a third Skrewt skitter into the narrow passage. It scuttled left and right. With some of its armored legs, it touched the hedges, obviously checking the width of the pathway.

The green-eyed wizard had a very bad feeling about this one.

A grinding sound could be heard. Harry had never heard any sound from the Skrewts before - besides the noise of their many clattering legs and the explosions. It sounded happy!

The Skrewt clattered closer. It held its tail high in the air. The poisonous stinger was especially long.

Harry stared, alarmed at the beast. The shiny, gray shell looked very thick. Well aware that it made no sense to cast at the magically-resistant armor, Harry tried to aim at the unprotected belly. Only there was nothing to cast at. The Skrewt was crouching to protect its weak spot.

Harry aimed at the ground: "Incendio!"

Magical flames sprang to life. The Skrewt stopped. Since there was nothing besides lush grass to keep the flames alive, they went out after a few moments.

The Skrewt came closer. Harry tried to come up with a better plan. This was the reason why magically immune beasts were considered to be the most dangerous ones.

Sending red sparks into the air was suddenly a viable an option. His wand twitched nervously.

Harry stared at the first Skrewt he had encountered. The late arrival would have to climb over it! When it did, he could cast at the belly of the unconscious one and flip the other one over. Thus, he would be able to knock it out!

The wizard waited tensely for his chance. The Skrewt came closer. It felt its unconscious brother up with two of its legs, its stinger bobbing dangerously. The Skrewt's legs had a hard time to find purchase on the plain armor.

Harry was ready to cast. The Skrewt slipped. It turned half onto the side. Harry was given a chance: "Stupor!"

His spell hit the belly. The last Skrewt collapsed.

Harry did not mind at all when the hedges sealed off the dead end with the unconscious creatures.

He made a point of moving on, so he would not run into any more Skrewts. The use of detection spells enabled him to evade another magical trap. When the maze shifted yet again, this time in a way that placed Harry in a dead end, he prepared himself for the next encounter with a magical beast.

The chilly atmosphere warned him of the Dementor before he saw it. Harry cried, "Expecto Patronum!" His stag charged towards the dark creature. The two of them started to struggle.

Harry blinked. He had not seen that before! It took him a moment to realize why. He imagined the Dementor wearing a baby blue robe and called: "Riddikulus!" The boggart changed accordingly to Harry's imagination and he managed to laugh at it somehow.

Barely a minute later, he encountered a Sphinx. It was one of the creatures he had studied intensely. He knew what to do and bowed respectfully. The female head smiled at him mysteriously. The Sphinx circled him like a proverbial predator. Her lion's body was impressive, and Harry worried about her sharp claws. Her riddle, however, was not very hard. Like all Sphinxes, she held her promise and allowed him to pass.

Suddenly and without warning, the hedges opened all crossroads. Harry got his first glance at the Triwizard Cup since the Second Task. The trophy was demanding attention by emanating magical light. It was sitting on the small pedestal Harry and Hermione had seen from the stands.

Cedric and Harry noticed each other exactly in the same moment, and it was Cedric who started the race. Harry tried to follow, but realized that the older Hufflepuff was not only taller than him, but also much faster. The gap between them grew at an alarming pace.

Harry could either allow Cedric to win or curse his back.

Suddenly Harry felt his blood rush like this was a Quidditch match. His fear and his hesitation fell off. He forgot completely that it had been his sole desire to survive the Triwizard Tournament. Victory was within his reach. He wanted to see Hermione's face beam at him. He was eager for her praise.

He could practically hear Olliver Wood's voice scream at him to give it everything he had. It was always either complete success or total failure. There was no in between. Harry craved the win more than ever. If he won, he would see Hermione's face beam at him. He was eager for her praise.

A wand made out of holly and with a phoenix feather core was raised. It was pretty hard to aim while running at full speed. Harry called a warning: "Defend yourself!"

It turned out that Cedric had just been waiting for this. Despite his height, he was surprisingly agile. He jumped to the side and came to a stop, his wand making a whipping motion. No incantation was spoken!

"Protego!" Harry called, remembering that he had wanted to attack first. His magical shield absorbed Cedric's spell of mediocre strength. Harry aimed a Stunning Spell at his opponent, but the older boy used a shield to protect himself.

Harry sent a tripping jinx at Cedric.

It bounced of the Hufflepuff's shield.

In retaliation, Cedric silently shot an array of magical rays at him.

Harry had no idea whether they were charms, curses or spells. However nothing came even close to cracking his shield. Cedric traded obviously a lot of power for casting silently.

Harry broke the ongoing attack by casting: "Stupor!" at Cedric, who hastily recast his shield.

Once more Cedric wasted no time to switch from defensive to offensive. He fired his next spell of without speaking its incantation.

However Harry had anticipated it this time. He sidestepped the yellow flash and simultaneously sent an "Expelliarmus!" at the other champion. Cedric's shield was already gone and his wand flew away. It was a very basic reactive move that had never worked on Hermione. She was always watching Harry's wand, ready to stop whatever she was up to in favor of casting a Shield Charm.

The Hufflepuff tried to regain possession of his wand by jumping after it, but Harry's "Accio Cedric's wand!" beat him to it. He could have finished the Tournament by stunning Cedric. He did not. Stunning the disarmed wizard seemed excessive to him. "Sorry, but there can only be one winner."

Cedric shrugged his shoulders: "I can't blame you Harry."

"I won't have to stun you if you let me past." Harry gestured for Cedric to take a few steps backwards.

The older boy obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

Harry went past the Hufflepuff keeping an eye on him in case he tried to engage in a physical confrontation.

A few steps and Harry found himself next to the pedestal. He was about to stretch his arm out to finish the Triwizard Tournament when the magical light of the trophy stroked his eye. The marvelously sculptured silver sparkled enticingly. Harry had never gone near the cup or really looked at it. He had neither wanted anyone to think that he wanted to win nor had he dared to hope to do so.

He choose to give himself one moment or two. He wanted to savor his victory before he would be reached around like a trophy himself. Harry sighed. The cup was a breathtaking piece of art. It must have been made by a true…

A reflection in the silver caught Harry's eye. His head turned curiously. He caught Cedric who was silently edging closer.

Before Harry had the chance to say something, the other champion lunged forward.

At that moment Harry could have grabbed the Cup but there was a second viable option.

With a grin on his lips, Harry threw Cedric's wand. It would have flown over his head but Cedric stretched his arms instinctively. He snatched his wand out of the air without a problem. His reflexes were worthy of a seeker.

Meanwhile, Harry took possession of the Triwizard Cup.

The moment Harry touched the trophy, his fingers became fused to it. He barely felt the weird pull from behind his navel before he was lifted up and propelled away. The landscape rotated around him at an awe-inspiring speed while he turned in the other direction, and he found he was unable to let go of the Triwizard Cup.

The ride ended as suddenly as it had begun. When the Portkey had done its deed, Harry's fingers were released. He crashed heavily onto the ground, and, just before he blacked out, he heard the Triwizard Cup clatter away.

Harry awoke with a fast and hammering pulse. He felt identically to the first time he had been reawakened by Hermione with the Rennervate Spell.

Sadly, there was no teenage girl kneeling next to him. Instead, Harry's gaze fell upon a small man. "You!" He barked at Wormtail. The wizard looked even more shabby than the year before. He seemed to have lost a significant amount of weight.

Harry tried to swing his fist at the traitorous wizard, but he found himself bound to something. When he turned his head he identified the thing as a huge gravestone. With wide eyes, the young wizard took his surroundings in: he was at a graveyard.

A thin voice hissed: "So we meet again!" The short sentence seemed to exert their speaker as he panted pathetically. Harry had the impression of a very old, ill man. He turned his head. His gaze fell on a bundle on the ground. Harry saw a being of the size of a baby, which, at the same time, was a newborn's complete opposite. Instead of lively, it seemed a breath away from death. Instead of rosy, soft skin, it was covered with parchment-like leather. There was no nose and its eyes were red. It was Lord Voldemort as Harry had seen him in his dream ten months before.

"Take a close look at me, Harry!" Voldemort hissed in anger and spread his thin bony arms baring his skeletal rib cage. "This is what I have become, thanks to you."

Harry turned his head away. Anywhere but the disgusting caricature of a baby. He wanted to find an escape, maybe take a closer look at his bonds and the cemetery. His eyes had nothing of it. They focused on a huge cauldron with a bubbling potion. Harry shivered. The cauldron was big enough for a full-grown man. It was certainly big enough for him!

A thin and pale skinned wizard stood next to it. He wore a dark robe and a smirk. He stirred the potion in a manner that could only be called meticulous.

"Look at me!" The thin voice demanded.

Wormtail grabbed Harry's chin and turned his head forcefully. Voldemort gloated: "You are privileged! You will be one of the few who will truly understand my greatness. At this moment, I am at the brink of death, but in mere minutes, I will be fully revived and restored to my old power." Full of satisfaction, Voldemort said: "I will recreate my old body. You will be one of only three witnesses. The last thing you will do in your life is fully comprehend my greatness!" Voldemort smiled sadistically. "All I need is your blood. And you can do nothing to stop me from taking it!"

Harry struggled. He was using his blood himself. He did not want to die! His attempts were in vain, his bonds strong and sturdy.

Wormtail held a sharp knife in his hand. He grabbed Harry's right arm and raised the weapon threateningly.

"The other arm you fool!" Voldemort coughed. "The left one is the one with the connection to the heart!"

Wormtail stepped around Harry and roughly pulled his left sleeve up to cut Harry's forearm. He collected a small vial of blood and handed it over. The wizard next to the cauldron wasted no time and started trickling the blood into the potion. His lips moved silently while he counted the drops.

"It is kind of sad that you won't be able to tell the tale!" Voldemort coughed weakly and, only after a long moment, Harry understood that he was laughing. "Stun him! I don't want any diversions." Wormtail raised his wand and accompanied by a red flash of light Harry blacked out again.

Harry woke several times on his own. However, he got always hit by the Stunning Spell before he could shake off his daze. He got a few glimpses of what was going on. He watched the thin wizard handling the potion. Another time, he saw the potion spew dark clouds out of the cauldron. And he overheard a few lines of conversation. "Master, may I offer a hand?" The unknown wizard said in a pleading tone and Voldemort answered in a weird generousness: "You may."

Finally, his madly beating heart told Harry that this time he had been awakened on purpose; the effect of the Rennervate Spell was unmistakable. Harry found his bonds had been untied. He was lying on damp grass and probably had been doing so for a while since he felt pretty cold. It was already nightfall.

"Stand up, Harry Potter!" Lord Voldemort commanded impatiently. He was still hissing in an unnaturally high voice but he did no longer sound like he would die any moment.

Harry dreaded to know why his voice was stronger, but at the same time he had to take a look. He needed to know. Harry raised his head.

Voldemort stood close by. One could have said he towered over Harry. He was tall and proportioned like a human, but, at the same time, he was not. Voldemort was still an abomination without a nose or a single hair. His skin was waxy and white.

"I am restored!" Voldemort gloated, spreading his arms, thus showing of his black robe. "I am once more fully alive."

Harry sat up in a way that distanced him from Voldemort. He looked around and found himself in front of a semicircle of men. They wore the attire of Death Eaters he had seen after the World Cup. They had not bothered to put their masks on.

Lucius Malfoy's blond hair pulled Harry's eyes at him like a magnet. He smiled nastily. And if there was such a thing as family resemblance, Harry recognized Crabbe's and Goyle's respective fathers to his left and right. Next to Crabbe senior stood the Headmaster of Durmstrang. Harry was not surprised at all to see Igor Karkaroff. Next in line stood the wizard who had handled the potion. Harry frowned at the sight of his right hand. It was in a sleeve that resembled liquid quicksilver.

"You can't run." Voldemort said full of satisfaction. "Your parents hid from me for more than a year. In the end, I found them."

"Thanks to treason!" Harry growled. His eyes were searching for Wormtail in the semi-circle. He glared at the small man.

Voldemort drew Harry's attention back at himself: "Now it is time to finish what I started thirteen years ago. I am going to kill you, Harry. You don't mind if I call you Harry, do you?" Despite the hissing, his tone almost sounded nice. "We will have a little duel. I will beat you thirteen times and then you will beg me to end your life." Voldemort smiled cruelly.

He aimed his wand and cast: "Crucio!"

Harry thought that he was relatively insensitive to pain. Once upon a time, he had broken a bone while playing Quidditch. He had still managed to catch the Golden Snitch. And a few hours later, when the vanished bones in his arm had been regrown with Skele-Gro, he had not shed even a single tear. Harry's trick was distancing himself from the aching. He told himself that it was just a limb that hurt, not the very arm that he used to swish and flick his wand.

That did not work at all. First of all, the pain was more intense than anything he had endured in Hogwarts, or even at the hands of the Dursleys. And second of all: Everything hurt. Each and every part of his body was in pain. And this included his head. His memory, his conscience, even the parts of his brain that controlled things like his breathing, everything was now overflowing with a mental liquid that equaled pain.

Magic made it possible that he did neither pass out from the overload of pain nor that he missed the most minuscule sensation of any part of his body. Everything ached at the same time.

Harry did not instantly notice when the torture was over. His mind needed a moment before it dared to tiptoe back into its sore shell. The young wizard was lying on the ground. His lungs were burning in need of oxygen and he gasped for air. He was shocked when he heard himself sob. He managed to get his voice under control but he could not control the tears wetting his cheeks. Without the slightest warning Harry started to cramp. His muscles tensed so hard that he thought he might rip his sinews.

The Death Eaters laughed maliciously at him.

He would have liked to glare at the wizards but he could not even raise his head. His throat felt hoarse, and he had a disgusting taste in his mouth. Harry tried to get rid of it by spitting but he failed.

"Pathetic!" hissed Voldemort. He snapped, "Wormtail! The wand!"

A wand was thrown at him. It should have been easy to catch it but Harry failed. The wand even hit his palm but he was not able to close his fingers in time. It landed in the grass about an arms length away from him.

"You have to do better than that, Harry. Or I can't give you a passing mark." Voldemort hissed nastily.

The Death Eaters laughed again. Harry realized even in his stupor that most of them faked it.

Then there was pain. Harry heard himself scream.

When he became aware that the world was more than just pain, Harry reopened his eyes. This time, he managed to glare at Voldemort.

The older wizard laughed out loud. It was a nasty sound. "Now that's the spirit Harry! Go, get your wand and we may finally start."

Harry had no need for Voldemort's advice! He was already groping for his wand.

"Pick up your wand and stand up. I am not going to duel you while you crawl on the ground like a worm." Voldemort ordered.

The Death Eaters' chuckles surrounded him.

Harry grabbed his wand. However, he did not bother to stand up. He did not even look up to glare defiantly at Voldemort. He was so very grateful, that he only had to tip his wand at the fourth finger of his left hand and say: "Portus!"

The cemetery rotated away at a breakneck speed. For some reason the Portkey Hermione had created spun Harry way faster than the ones he had previously used. There was nothing recognizable on this travel. The world became a blur of colors.

Harry realized that this landing would be even harder than the previous one. He tried to protect his head with his right arm. He had no control over his left one. He could probably call himself lucky that it had not been pulled out of its socket - so far.

He was positively surprised when his landing did not crush all of his bones.

Still disoriented, Harry looked up.

A very familiar girl stood above him, hands on her hips she stared at him. Her hair bristled in anger. Hermione did not ask but outright demanded to know: "Where have you been?!"

"I... h-have t-to sssspeak... Dumbledore!" Harry stuttered. He tried to stand up, but fell over pitifully. The world was still spinning and the ground had given in.

"You see? I told you she had a reason for using the cushioning charm!" Harry heard Ron's voice tell someone.

"Finite Incantatem!" Hermione growled.

Harry felt the grassy ground under his fingers turn solid.

When the bystanders became aware of the formerly missing champion, a loud commotion broke loose. Everyone spoke up at the same time: "Harry Potter?" - "It is Harry Potter!" - "He returned!" - "What has happened?" were only a few of the exclamations and questions that arose around him.

Dumbledore's voice demanded in an obviously magical volume: "Silence!"

He came over and knelt down next to Harry. When he noticed that Harry wanted to stand up, he helped him.

It was the first time Harry touched Dumbledore. The wizard felt bony and old, but he was still strong. Once Harry was on his feet, Dumbledore released his grip on him. Before Harry could worry that he would fall down again, Hermione pushed herself under his left arm.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over to check him for injuries. The young wizard was overall fine; therefore, the headmaster held the nurse back when she wanted to take Harry into her care.

"Harry, what has happened?" The headmaster asked then and there.

"The Triwizard Cup was a Portkey. It took me away to a cemetery. Voldemort was there!" There were the usual screams, when Harry spoke the name of the Dark Lord.

However, in contrast to the standard procedure, the huge group of witches and wizards did not fall silent. Their volume rose further and further.

Minister Fudge cried. "Nonsense! Check the boys head. He is speaking gibberish. Voldemort is dead!"

"Cornelius, you can't be serious!" Dumbledore said in a placating manner. "The signs have been there for years."

Half of the people were shocked into speechlessness. The other half started arguing whether Cornelius Fudge or Albus Dumbledore was right. Within a few moments a dozen people were pushing into Harry's direction, demanding to speak to him personally. They were held back by Aurors and Hit Wizards, who were there to ensure the safety of the Minister of Magic and his colleagues from overseas and who stood all close by.

Madam Pomfrey took the initiative. She grabbed Harry's elbow and dragged him away, Hermione came along. She was still holding him upright. She was the only person to accompany him. Upon glancing over his shoulder Harry saw Ron and the other Weasleys. They were held back by ministry officials.

The nurse dragged Harry into her makeshift infirmary in a nearby tent. Five beds were lined up on every side, all of them empty at the moment. The placing of some stools indicated that one of them had been occupied not long ago.

Harry was placed on the edge of the closest bed. He hoped that Fleur was all right. He grimaced and mentally added that he did not wish that Viktor was badly injured either! Madam Pomfrey's voice pulled him out of his thoughts: "Are you in pain, Mr. Potter?"

"No." Harry answered out of reflex. The matron and Hermione alike sported very worried expressions. The young wizard realized that he had given the wrong answer. He had to do better than that! "Yes... no... I mean: It is not too bad. I will manage. Quidditch has been harder on me at times!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when both women seemed to worry a little bit less.

It was at that moment that his body started to cramp. His right leg turned completely rigid. Harry gritted his teeth but he could not stop himself from whining in pain.

"What is wrong with him?" Hermione demanded to know.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and mumbled incantations in hope of finding an answer. "Let's place him on the bed!"

Harry thought that the two females were handling him rather roughly when they pushed him onto the bed to lie down.

The cramp stopped without Madam Pomfrey doing anything. When Harry dared to open his eyes he saw Hermione glowering at him. She snapped: "What was that?!"

"I think," Harry sighed. "it is an aftereffect of Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse. I will be fine after a good night's rest."

Hermione hissed in anger.

Madam Pomfrey gasped in shock. She rushed to a cabinet, opening it with a tap of her wand. Flasks cluttered when the matron pushed them around. She carried two back to Harry. "I don't have the potion in store which helps best," she said apologetically. A small flask containing a thin, green liquid was pushed at him. "We will have to improvise. Take this one first."

Harry rightfully expected the potion to taste disgusting. The second vial got uncorked by the matron. He hurried to get that foul liquid down as well.

"How bad was it, Mr. Potter?" asked Madam Pomfrey. "And I need to know the full truth, not some whitewashed story. I need to dose you with the right amount of potions otherwise the curse may have lasting effects."

For once, Madam Pomfrey managed to break through Harry's shell. He told her in detail about his encounter with Voldemort while she fixed the cut on his arm and some minor bruises he had not even noticed.

One could not argue about Madam Pomfrey's efficiency. Half an hour after his return to Hogwarts, Harry lay in a sickbed in the Hospital Wing.

Hermione had outlined to him what had happened while he had been on the graveyard. She had seen him vanish upon touching the Triwizard Cup. Ludo Bagman had told the audience that the trophy had been supposed to transport him to the judges. He had guessed that someone must have made a mistake upon turning the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey. For three hours the ministry had tried in vain to track the trace of said Portkey.

"So, you'll keep me safe by never ever letting go of my hand?" Harry joked while looking meaningfully at his left hand. His fingers were white due to her tight grip.

Hermione relaxed her hand but glared at him: "I am considering different options."

Before Harry could try again to lighten up the mood, Madam Pomfrey came over with another flask. "I'm sorry, you two will have to catch up tomorrow. It's about time to take the sleeping draught."

Harry eyed the awful-smelling potion. "I guess, it can't be helped."

Madam Pomfrey stepped back to allow the couple to say good night in private.

Harry was just about to down the sleeping draught when the door to the Hospital Wing swung open, allowing entry to a man with a bottle-green suit and a lime green bowler hat.

"I am here to talk to Harry Potter." The Minister of Magic announced grandiloquently.

Madam Pomfrey stepped in the way of his path. "It does not matter whether you are the Minister or Albus Dumbledore. My patient needs to rest! You can visit him tomorrow if he has fully recovered by then." She firmly went on: "I am very sorry, but there is no way Mr. Potter can partake in the award ceremony."

Cornelius Fudge lost his aura of resoluteness. "Well..." He was clearly perplexed over the witch's attitude. "It is a matter of national interest that I speak to him." Following an afterthought, he added: "Right now."

The matron was not impressed at all: "And it is in Mr. Potter's best interest to be sleeping right now. Meanwhile I don't want any disturbance in my ward!"

Harry was very tempted to keep on watching. He was sure that Cornelius Fudge was about to be thrown out in less than a minute. "It is alright Madam Pomfrey, I would like to speak to the minister."

"You heard him!" Fudge said hastily and slipped around the nurse.

Fudge pulled a stool close and sat down on Harry's right side and thereby opposite of Hermione who sat on his left. The Minister looked at her raising one eyebrow.

"That is Hermione Granger." Harry answered the unasked question and explained: "She is my girlfriend."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said.

"Nice to meet you, too." Fudge replied. He glanced over his shoulder. Madam Pomfrey stood at the far wall. Her arms were crossed and a scowl was firmly placed on her face. She was out of hearing range, but they kept on talking in a low voice.

Fudge pondered visibly, unsure of how to begin. He choose a serious tone to start. "Harry, allow me to congratulate you for winning the Triwizard Tournament. You have represented Britain very well."

"Thank you Minister." Harry answered politely. "I did my best."

"And you won." The minister noted with a hint of satisfaction. "A feat which will enter the history books."

Harry sighed in exasperation.

"So..." Fudge cleared his throat nervously. "I would like to know what happened?"

Harry looked straight at him. It had not slipped his notice that the Minister of Magic had vocally argued with Dumbledore whether Voldemort had or had not returned. Feeling his exhaustion Harry came straight to the point: "Voldemort returned. That is what happened."

Fudge flinched visibly. "Please, don't say his name! I've really heard it enough times for one day. And it's unsettling enough when Dumbledore uses it. Please don't follow his example."

Trying to compromise Harry said: "Fine. You-Know-Who returned."

"Well, I understood that the first time." Fudge grumbled unhappily. "But let's start at the beginning. You entered the maze at half past two. We could watch you and Cedric partially from the Quidditch stands, even though you could not see us."

Harry frowned.

"I had to split my attention between you, Cedric, and my foreign colleagues. You see, I even had to mediate between them over the duel of their champions. Pretty dumb to waste an advantage like that if you ask me." Fudge shrugged his shoulders. "That was their own fault. Anyway, due to to my responsibilities as the host I missed a substantial part of the Third Task."

"How are Fleur and Krum?" Harry asked with concern.

"Has nobody told you?" Fudge glanced at Hermione.

She answered: "Harry has barely returned, when should I have told him?"

"Oh, you are probably right."

"Told me what?" Harry asked in alarm.

"Calm down." Hermione placed her hand on Harry's shoulder. The touch was indeed slowing his pulse down. "It was announced that they will be fine."

Fudge nodded in confirmation. "Both are in St Mungo's. They will eventually recover. But the burns Viktor Krum received are as serious as the curse he struck Fleur Delacour with."

The incorporation of Hermione into the discussion made Harry relax visibly. Fudge leaned back, attempting to further wind him down: "Tell me a little bit about your encounters. Did you run into any magical traps? There were quite a lot of them. I saw the bills for constructing them."

"No. I was able to evade all of them." Harry glanced at his girlfriend. "Hermione taught me a vast number of detection spells."

"Did she?" The Minister eyed her thoughtfully.

"Hermione is the cleverest witch in the entire school." Harry explained proudly.

Fudge chuckled. He remembered his own youth while looking at the two teens. The change of mood was welcome to him.

Harry relaxed more and more. He told Fudge in short words about his encounters with the magical beasts. He even recited the riddle of the Sphinx.

"And then you met Cedric." Fudge concluded.

"Yeah, that's right." Harry retold how the maze opened a wide pathway to the Triwizard Cup and about his duel with Cedric, how he got ahold of the Triwizard Cup. He fell silent for a moment, realizing that Fudge would still be unwilling to believe the next part. "The cup was a Portkey and it brought me..." Harry hesitated, but, in the end, he choose to call a spade a spade: "... to Voldemort."

Fudge flinched once more. "Why do you insist on this nonsense?"

Harry cried out in anger, "Do you think I make this up?" He pulled his left sleeve up. His new scar got exposed. "Wormtail... I mean: Peter Pettigrew did this! Voldemort used my blood for a potion to restore his body!"

"Nonsense!" Minister Fudge repeated angrily. "Everybody knows that Peter Pettigrew is dead! I told you so last year. We found his finger. And You-Know-Who is dead as well!"

"Moody has lost a leg and he is still alive!" Harry snapped.

At some point Madam Pomfrey had retreated into her office. The volume of the last exchange had alarmed her. "This is enough for today. It is time for Mr. Potter to take the sleeping draught."

Fudge's stool scrapped over the tiles when he stood up abruptly. He was ready to storm out of the ward but he turned and stared at Harry with a frown. "Why do you even think it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? There are no pictures of him. All of them were destroyed nearly two decades ago. You do not even know what he looks like."

So far Hermione had been remarkably silent. Fudge looked in surprise at her when she asked: "Your reasoning is that You-Know-Who is dead. So you think Harry saw someone else on the cemetery?"

"Exactly!" Fudge looked hopefully at Harry.

Harry gaped at the minister. "No hair. Red eyes. No nose. Who else fits that description?"

Fudge was furious. He grappled for something in his cloak. "Here is your prize money!" He snapped, throwing a bag full of coins onto the night table next to Harry's bed. Then he stormed off.

* * *

A/N: Once more excellent work on behalf of joanne's thriller! All mistakes are on me - I smuggled them probably in with my last minute changes.

Did you notice? It does not change the story at all that Moody was actually Moody.

My parting words shall be... Don't get used to chapters of this the length!


	18. Dursleys and Grangers

Dursleys and Grangers

* * *

Harry reread the letter for the seventh time – or was it the eighth time? Anyway, by now he was very close to knowing it by heart. Naturally, he was obsessing over a letter from his girlfriend. Vernon Dursley had called it a 'real' letter because there had been a stamp on its envelope and it had been delivered the Muggle way.

Vernon had preferred this form of communication so much over owls that he had handed Harry a batch of envelopes and a number of stamps. "Got enough of these at the office." he had explained gruffly. And thus, by being narrow-minded he had accidentally done something nice for his nephew - for the first time ever!

Hedwig had still carried Harry's next letter to Hermione. In stark contrast to the Dursleys, her parents found it entertaining to have a snowy owl deliver mail to their breakfast table.

It was not by accident that the messy-haired wizard was fixated on this very letter. He was not obsessed of this letter because it was her most recent one, even though it was. There were no vows of undying love or revelations of secret desires to be found in its text, either. Hermione had a very sober style of writing. That she really cared for Harry could only be concluded by the growing length of her letters and her nagging.

The reason for Harry to reread this letter were a few numbers. They made up a date and a time, which was slowly advancing.

It would be the earliest point of time in the history of Harry's summer holidays from Hogwarts that he would be liberated from the Dursleys. This feeling was mutual. The Dursleys wished for nothing more than to get rid of the so called little freak.

"It's already quarter past two!" Vernon complained impatiently. "What's taking them so long?"

Harry kept his mouth shut. He was aware that whatever he said, would only rile his uncle up.

"I've got better things to do on a Sunday afternoon than waiting for tardy visitors!"

Keeping his opinion to himself was becoming harder by the second for Harry. In his eyes, barking at the TV was not a worthwhile activity. Not even when the first round of the FA-Cup was about to be broadcasted.

"They'll be here in a moment." Petunia tried to soothe her husband. She was spying the street through the curtains. Before Vernon could answer, she hissed, "That's got to be them!"

Harry dared to peek as well. A dark green Jaguar passed the house slowly. It stopped with a jerk in front of Mrs. Figg's home. It reversed and stopped once more abruptly.

"Finally!" Vernon clapped his hands in satisfaction. "How do I look?"

Petunia inspected him from head to toe, "Perfect!"

That word had and would never be used by Harry to describe his uncle, although he had to admit that the man was an imposing figure. This was mostly thanks to his corpulence, but the blue suit did his bit as well. The young wizard had not missed the fact that the Dursleys were dressed in their best clothes. They wanted to make a good impression even though – or maybe especially because – they did not know the Grangers. Hermione's parents were Muggles after all. Doctors, even!

Harry spied his girlfriend and her parents get out of the car from behind the curtains. Mr. Granger put on a sports jacket and offered his arm to his wife. She wore a summer dress with a floral pattern. Harry blinked in surprise. Hermione's parents were way older than he had expected. By the look of it, they could have been her grandparents.

They walked up to the door and rang the bell. Harry wanted to answer it badly. However, Petunia had decided that her son would open it. Dudley wore his Smelting Uniform. The plan was that he made a good first impression; how he was supposed to pull that off was beyond Harry.

The Grangers rang for the second time. Finally, Dudley clomped grumpily down the stairs. He glared at his parents over the disturbance in whatever he had been doing. He yanked the door open.

The finger of Hermione's mom was hovering close to the button of the door bell. She pulled it back hastily.

"Hello." Mr. Granger greeted swiftly, obviously surprised by Dudley's abrupt manner of opening the door.

Uncle Vernon moved past Harry. "Hello and welcome!" His voice boomed. "Please, don't stand there like a stiff board. Come in!"

Once the Grangers were inside, Vernon placed a meaty hand on Dudley's shoulder. "That's my son. His name is Dudley. He is a student at Smeltings Academy." Next was his wife: he gestured at her and she curtsied. "My wife, Petunia. And I am Vernon Dursley. Director at Grunnings. We produce drills. But only those for craftsmen." He chuckled at his joke. "Pleased to meet you." Almost like an afterthought he added, "Oh, and that is Harry Potter, son of my wife's dead sister."

"Pleased to meet you, too." Hermione's father said in a formal tone. "Allow me to introduce my family. My wife, Dr. Emma Granger; my daughter, Hermione; and I am Dr. Daniel Granger. But, please, call us Emma and Dan."

Hands were shaken and Harry got a peck from his girlfriend.

"We're very sorry for being late." Dan went on apologetically. "I had problems finding Privet Drive."

"Don't worry!" Petunia said indulgently as she invited everyone to sit in the living room for tea and pastries. A very stiff conversation took place. It was the very first time Vernon Dursley tried to be polite to a person whom he associated with his nephew. As far as Harry could tell he succeeded.

Nonetheless, everyone was elated when Daniel Granger said after an hour, "I am so sorry, but it looks like we have to leave early. We have to get going if we want to get home at a proper time."

Despite getting fed pastries early Dudley was grumpy when he had to help Harry carry his trunk to the Jaguar. Dan, in turn, was a little bit confused when Hermione placed an empty cage right next to it. "Where is your owl? I thought you'd bring it along."

Harry answered. "I told Hedwig to wait at your house."

Dan was baffled. "You told your owl to wait at our house. That works?"

"Dad." Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Hedwig understands if you want her to deliver a letter; why should she not understand it if you want her to wait somewhere for you?"

The man thought that over. "Okay, you got a point."

With Harry helping them out, the Grangers reached the motorway noticeably faster than they had expected.

"And your family is really fine with you not being around for the rest of summer?" Emma asked worriedly.

"Definitely." Harry nodded. Since the Dursleys had left a decent impression, he held back from speaking his mind. It would not do well to seem ungrateful. Personally, he expected his relatives to celebrate his departure.

Mrs. Granger realigned the rear mirror so she could look a the two teens without turning her head.

"Emma, don't do that!" his husband grumbled indignantly.

"Hush, you!" His wife smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Then she peered into the mirror. "Hermione wrote so much about you in her letters. I feel like I already know you, Harry."

"Really?" The boy in question asked in surprise. He turned to look at Hermione, who was sitting right behind her mother. The witch stared stubbornly at the back of the headrest.

Egged on by Hermione's parents, Harry spent the next hour retelling the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. He started at the dragon and went on to describe what Hermione had done at the Yule Ball. He explained how he had solved the riddle thanks to Fleur's hint and told them about the task in the lake. He used every opportunity to point out how helpful Hermione had been in preparing for that task and the next one as well.

"So Hermione has basically taught you everything you needed to know for that competition?" Emma asked like she wanted to clear something up.

"Yes, that's definitely true!" Harry nodded. He looked sideways at the witch in question. "Hermione is incredibly intelligent!"

"We know." Emma said tersely.

"Yes, obviously you do." Harry chuckled sheepishly. "I mean she is the most clever witch in..." He struggled to finish his statement. "...in decades? Forever?"

"That's quite the flattering compliment." Emma said with a crooked eyebrow.

"I'm not exaggerating!" Harry gasped in surprise over the suggestion. "Everyone thinks so. I overheard Professor McGonagall say so to Madam Pomfrey."

A moment of silence followed.

Finally, Dan requested Harry to retell the last task as well. Harry described Viktor's and Fleur's duel before he told them about his experiences inside of the maze. Just when he was about to come to the part with the portkey, Hermione interrupted him. She rushed to explain, "Harry reached the Cup first but only by a hair's breath. It was a head-to-head race with the other Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory."

The green-eyed wizard came to the conclusion that Hermione had spared her parents the story of his encounter with the Death Eaters. Harry wondered whether she had withheld more facts. He skipped that there had been no victory ceremony by pointing out that the Minister of Magic had personally handed him the prize money.

A lot of people might have advised Harry to handle the money with care. Among the Grangers this went without saying.

"Hermione told us that your name was drawn out of the Triwizard Cup?" Emma asked curiously.

The witch corrected her mother before Harry had a chance to do so, "His name came out of the Goblet of Fire. The Triwizard Cup is just a fancy trophy."

"Sorry, Hermione, I mixed that up." Emma said apologetically.

"Have you brought the trophy along?" Dan asked. "The description in Hermione's letter made me kind of curious."

Hermione intervened faster than Harry could start to worry how he was supposed to reveal that he lost the cup on the graveyard, on which Voldemort had been resurrected. She said, "The Trophy is a challenge cup and it's awarded to the school."

Instead of sulking Dan asked, astonished, "Is it true that your name was written on a slip of paper which floated out of blue flames?"

Harry nodded even though Dan could not see him. "Yes, that's right."

"But you vehemently declined that you had submitted your name?" Emma edged back into the discussion.

"Yes, that's true as well. I didn't throw my name into the Goblet of Fire."

"And you could not resign?" Emma asked quizzically.

"No, I could not. There was a magical contract between me and the Goblet. I had to participate."

Dan said sympathetically, "Hermione told us you would have lost your ability to use magic if you had not participated in all tasks?"

"That's what I was told." Harry confirmed. He glanced at Hermione. He had the very strong suspicion that she had not told her parents whom he suspected for placing him in the tournament. "Somebody threw my name into the Goblet of Fire."

Once more, Hermione took part in the discussion without being asked to. "I still think it was Draco Malfoy. He hates you. Everybody knows that!"

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "He would have loved nothing better than seeing me fail."

"Yeah, we heard of that _bad-faith-_ boy." Dan grumbled.

Harry looked confused at Hermione who just rolled her eyes. She explained, "It's a pun. Mal foy is French for bad faith. Dad thinks it's funny."

"So a boy not older than you manipulated a magical contract which could have rendered you unable to use magic?" Emma asked in a off-handed tone that clearly betrayed the depth of her accusation. "Magical Contracts have to be the most insecure contracts I ever heard of."

"Magical Contracts are pretty safe." Hermione explained in her well known lecture mode. "But the Goblet of Fire is hundreds and hundreds of years old. Therefore it had weaknesses which have been eliminated in modern contracts."

"We'll be home in a moment." Dan announced. The car left a forest behind them and a town appeared left of the car.

Hermione seized the opportunity and launched a long-winded speech of her hometown. She pointed out the churches and those historical buildings visible from the distance. Upon coming closer, Hermione added information on where you could buy food, clothes, and everything else Harry could think of.

"And this is where we live," Dan concluded with a chuckle. The car stopped in front of a garage. The house right next to it was noticeably larger than that of the Dursleys. It was still a single family house but Harry wondered if it was actually big enough to accommodate a library?

Five minutes and a guided tour later, Harry knew where everything in the Grangers' home was located. They had no library but Hermione's room looked like one. The last room, shown to him, was the guest room. Harry placed Hedwig's cage on a dresser. He stepped over to the window and opened it. His owl landed on the sill. Dan and Emma watched on interestedly as he helped Hedwig back into her cage, so she could nap until nightfall when he would set her free for hunting.

Everything seemed to be fine before Hermione suddenly asked acridly, "Maybe you could leave my boyfriend and myself alone for ten minutes?" She was looking at her mother.

Emma glared at her daughter. She was about to answer sharply. However, her husband was faster, "You'll be down for dinner?" Emma was gently nudged out of the room.

"We'll be there, Dad." Hermione said softly.

"Five minutes!" Emma snapped and pointed at her golden wrist watch.

Dan rolled his eyes behind his wife's back. It was hard for Harry to suppress his grin when he realized that Hermione had inherited that from her father.

Two pairs of feet could be heard on the squeaky staircase. Dan and Emma started talking to each other in a hushed but urgent tone. Hermione closed the door silently

A lopsided grin was plastered onto Harry's face. He was about to comment on the closed door.

"Can you crack your joke another time?" Hermione cut him short. "We are in a hurry. I have not told my parents the full truth about Hogwarts. If I had done so, I would have been pulled out of school over Christmas in second year!"

The implication of that made Harry gasp out, "Hogwarts would have been shut down if you had not killed the basilisk!"

"Never mention that!" Fear flickered over Hermione's face. She actually opened the door and checked the hallway before softly closing it again. "My mother would have a fit!"

Harry's eyes widened at the thought that Hermione's parents had never learned that their daughter had saved the school from closing. The thought was absurd that, of all people, they did not know that Hermione had been the one to kill the Basilisk!

Before Harry could say something, Hermione hissed at him. "I want you to watch your mouth while you are here. Not a single word about Hogwarts being dangerous or how much the other students dislike me. Especially nothing about conspiracies or Death Eaters. Got that?"

"What am I supposed to talk about instead?"

"Talk about Quidditch or classes. Talk about the ghosts or whatever!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Just talk about magic in general."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Okay."

"Excellent!" Hermione took a look at an alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. "Now that that has been cleared..."

Without a word of warning, Hermione's arms entangled Harry's neck. She kissed him fiercely. She exploited his surprise to deepen the kiss and push him backwards onto the mattress of his bed.

Swollen lips, ruffled hair and deranged clothes were proof of what the teens had been up to once they came down for dinner.

Hermione placed her boyfriend on the stool right next to her. Emma glared at her only daughter in a manner Harry knew very well.

They had a simple dinner. Tomatoes with mozzarella and a few drops of olive oil were the only thing worth mentioning.

Once they were done eating Emma requested, "Hermione, I would like to talk to you in the kitchen."

The two women left without taking a single plate with them. Harry was about to carry them after them, when Dan gestured for him to leave everything as it was. "Better come with me, Harry."

They went to the living room. Dan switched the TV on.

Harry was worried. "What are Mrs. Granger and Hermione doing in the kitchen?" He craned his neck to look in the general direction of the door.

"Hermione takes after her mother." Dan said hesitantly. "Sometimes she gets a bit forward."

"If you say so." Harry tried to say diplomatically.

Dan smirked in amusement. "You can take my word for it. I am the leading expert on that field!"

It said a lot about Dan that Harry dared to ask, "Is Hermione in trouble?"

"Kind of," Dan admitted after a moment he added, "Emma has a talk about behavior with her right now."

"Behavior?" Harry asked blankly.

"Well her tone back in your room was improper. That's no way to talk to ones mother." Dan sighed in exasperation. "And she interrupted you quite a lot when we were talking to you in the car." Mr. Granger added almost apologetically, "You see, Hermione is our only child. She is used to be the center of attention. I guess, we spoiled her."

"Hermione is not spoiled!" Harry defended his girlfriend instantly. He could barely stop himself from bringing up Dudley. "I know some spoiled kids. Hermione is not like them."

Dan chuckled in a knowing manner. Instead of saying what was on his mind, he pointed at the TV. "Listen to this! Scores of the FA-Cup!"

Harry noted that Vernon's favorite team had survived the first round of the football competition. They sat in silence through the news. A movie started and Harry heard steps in the hallway repeatedly.

The silence had become unnerving when Mr. Granger leaned back and stared at the window. Harry followed his gaze. It was dark by now. "You've got astronomy at school right?"

"We have it one evening a week." Harry confirmed

"Way better than having astronomy at ten in the morning." Dan chortled. "Come with me."

Harry followed the elderly man to the back garden. Dan stared at the stars and nodded happily. He pulled a shockproof case out of a cupboard next to the door. Inside was a very expensive looking reflecting telescope. Dan was experienced in setting it up. "Better than those at Hogwarts?"

"Definitely." Harry answered. "Those at school are probably from the last century."

"Good one!" Dan chuckled. He had no idea how accurate Harry's guess was.

They had barely set everything up when Emma came out on the porch. "Here you are!" she exclaimed and sat down in one of the wicker chairs.

"Oh, you set the telescope up." Hermione noted happily.

Harry and Dan stepped aside to allow Hermione to take a look. She peered through the ocular. "Venus!" she said and send a glare at her mother.

Emma huffed and fetched a magazine. She flipped through it to make a show of ignoring her daughter.

Hermione was not impressed by her act. It was way to dark to read anything. When her attention returned to the night sky, she said, "Jupiter is way more interesting!" And without asking, she realigned the telescope. "Dad's telescope is so much better than those at school, Harry. You can see the moons and rings way better with this one!"

The rest of the evening remained a tense thing thanks to Hermione and her mother butting heads in not-so-subtle ways.

Before retreating for the night Harry showered and brushed his teeth. Then he put his sleeping clothes on and ended up sitting playing around with the alarm clock on his nightstand. He had no idea which time he was supposed to get up.

He looked curiously at his door, when he heard a click from the lever. He held his breath as the door moved very slowly. It was not pushed open all the way. Hermione slipped in as soon as the gap was wide enough for her. She instantly turned around and closed the door with utmost care, to produce as little noise as possible.

The young woman smirked like the cat that got the cream. A short silken nightgown was all she wore. It was white and very simple. There were no lace or frills, no slits on the sides and almost no neckline. Two wide straps over the shoulders held the garment comfortably in place. It had been made for sleeping purposes.

Harry stared blankly at his girlfriend. He had never seen that much of her skin. Her arms and shoulders were uncovered. Her legs were bare below mid-thigh. And on top of that, the silk flowed around her body and highlighted her contours in a way that made her look less clothed than she actually was.

"Hermione!" he gasped, "What are you doing here?"

She smiled seductively, "I thought, I'd check out if you are alright."

"I'm fine." Harry said eloquently.

A few short steps brought Hermione to his bed. With wide eyes, Harry watched her sit down next to him. Her leg touched his and he felt her body warmth seep through the two thin layers of clothing.

"Maybe you'd like to kiss me goodnight?" she murmured already leaning in.

They ended up doing a lot more than just kissing. At some point Hermione slipped onto his lap. He got first hand experience that the silk of her nightgown left very little space for imagination but was very much stimulating his fantasy.

Their encounter ended with a teasing smile, "Sweet dreams!"

* * *

A/N: Part of this chapter was beta-read by joanne's thriller. I incorporated her last suggestion and therefore chunks of the text above ended up without being checked by a second pair of eyes. Henceforth, joanne's thriller will lack the time to correct my mistakes(see above). I'd like to thank her for her help and input!


	19. An Unattended Visit

An Unattended Visit

* * *

The tree-lined road was not only empty it was also in bad shape. It had been worn down by age. Crannies had been filled and holes had been mended but everyone had breathed a sigh of relief when the new bypass had been finished. Nowadays this road was basically useless. Hermione stopped at its side. She stood in the shadows of the tree-line which was almost part of the park she had briskly run through. Beyond the tree-line on the other side of the road was a crop field. This was the most remote location in walking range of her home and therefore ideal for their purpose.

"I feel weird wearing my school uniform in the middle of the summer." Harry complained while pulling yet again at his collar. He looked around if anybody was looking at them.

Hermione knew that People had indeed stared at them due to their school uniforms. For the time being, they were alone. "It's the only thing we have to blend in in Diagon Alley."

Green eyes stared curiously at her. "Hogwarts is somewhere in Scotland. Diagon Alley is in London. Please explain to me how we are supposed to blend in?"

His intense gaze was the most remarkable thing about her boyfriend's appearance. His eyes were distracting her but Hermione was still able to refute his argument. "The Floo-Network renders geographical distances insignificant."

"But it's the middle of the summer holidays! Nobody wears school uniforms during the holidays. We will stand out like a sore thumb." Harry was not someone to give up easily. Often, this was one of his strong virtues. Sometimes, it was graining on Hermione's nerves.

For a moment Hermione wondered why he had even put the uniform on when she had asked him to do so. "We will put our cloaks over the uniforms in five minutes. Nobody will look at us closely. If they do, there will be no harm done. People would know that we are students anyway. We're at that age. And being awkward teens wearing their uniforms over the holidays will be less noticeable than wearing Muggle clothes."

"I'd just like to not be the center of attention for once." Harry half whined half grumbled.

"You can not wear Muggle clothes in that case!" Hermione exclaimed in triumph. "All wizards are alarmed instantly if they see someone wearing Muggle clothes in Diagon Alley. Naturally they will look at you and try to determine if you are actually a Muggle! We would need regular wizard's clothes to blend in."

Harry sighed.

That was the sign Hermione had been waiting for. The sign that he finally accepted her perspective as the right one. "Will you stop wasting our time now?"

"Sorry." Harry mumured the apology in a way that told Hermione that he had actually forgotten what he was supposed to do. He stretched his arm out. The tip of his wand pointed straight at the sky. Then it was hurriedly put away before someone could see them.

Nobody was around. But Hermione thought that Harry was right to act this way: better safe than sorry. She checked the road like she wanted to cross it. Looking first right than left and than once more right. It was still empty.

When it remained empty she could not stop her mouth from asking: "You've done that before, right?"

"Yes." Harry nodded at her. "In the summer holidays between second and third year."

The next curious question followed instantly, "How long did you have to wait?"

A shrug of shoulders accompanied the answer, "I don't know? Maybe half a minute?"

Once more Hermione turned her head right and left like she was checking the traffic. There was not a single vehicle in sight. They were waiting on the sideline of a completely deserted road which ran around the far side of a public park. Hermione tried very hard to make her question sound casual, "Did you do it right?"

It was Harry's turn to look the street up and down. "Maybe the Knight Bus is stuck in a traffic jam?"

"Unlikely." Hermione frowned at her boyfriend. How could he suggest something this absurd? "The Knight Bus travels in a magical mode which is closely linked and comparable to Apparation. The bus only needs to drive on roads to cross Ley lines or structures of significant magical impression. Rivers create strong magical impressions if they're intersected by an even number of Ley lines. The Knight Bus has to either cross them on a bridge or circumvent them." Hermione was pleased with her brief explanation and looked expectantly at Harry.

He coughed. "That was a joke."

Hermione felt herself flush. "Oh..."

They were silent for at least a minute. When Hermione looked at Harry, he was nestling on his Gryffindor-colored tie. She chided him, "Stop that!"

Harry stared at her through his glasses. Hermione could almost see him thinking. Suddenly he asked, "What are Ley lines?"

Hermione crinkled her nose. It had not been part of the curriculum yet but she still considered Ley lines basic knowledge. What was Harry thinking how large-scale area of effect spells worked if he had no idea about Ley lines? She had already opened her mouth to explain it to him, when a horn announced the arrival of the Knight Bus.

They both looked right in time to see a purple triple-decker slowly fade into visibility. It stopped in an almost lazy manner in front of them.

"There it is!" Harry announced superfluously.

The conductor stepped into view. Hermione looked him up and down. He was a lanky, young wizard in an untidy purple uniform. He read out from a slip of paper like an idiot, "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for..."

"Hi, Stan!" Harry greeted.

The wizard named Stan looked up. Hermione hastily stepped in front of her own idiot wizard who had very recently claimed that he wanted to travel anonymously. "Two tickets to the Leaky Cauldron, please!"

"Do I know you?" Stan looked at her. His eyes took her bushy hair in, he looked at her chest, at her skirt and all the way down to her feet. It was a really short examination but Hermione was grateful that her dark uniform hid anything worth looking at.

"Two tickets to the Leaky Cauldron!" Hermione snapped harshly at him.

She noticed with satisfaction that the lanky wizard flinched over her voice. He hurried to comply with her command. "Oh, yeah, sure, um..." Stan twisted his slip of paper repeatedly. Hermione saw the inscription on it change with every turn. Stan was looking over an unbelievably complicated schedule. Finally his face lighted up in triumph. "That's two sickles and fourteen Knuts!"

Hermione counted the money into his hand and Stan passed two tickets on to her. "I really don't think that I know you."

"Let's keep it that way." scoffed Hermione. She dragged Harry up the narrow staircase onto the middle floor.

"What's gotten into you?" he hissed, obviously taken aback over her impoliteness.

Still irritated over the whole encounter she snapped, "If you want to travel without being noticed, you can't run around greeting people!"

Harry looked acceptably admonished.

Hermione sighed, "Let's put our cloaks on."

With the cloaks on their house crests were no longer visible. Alas, anybody in Britain was familiar with the Hogwarts Uniform so they would probably fool nobody. Their ties were even betraying their house affiliation.

Suddenly there was a loud bang like the backfire of a really old engine. The Knight Bus practically jumped into movement. Hermione heard herself shriek. She tried in vain to get a hold of a grabpole.

Luckily Harry had better reflexes than her. His left arm curled around her waist and Hermione felt herself being pulled flush against him. His whipser in her ear made her shudder, "Sorry, I forgot to warn you!"

They took seat on a couch that slid around the floor while the bus turned left and right, made emergency stops and accelerated back to top speed by jumping back into movement.

The combination of delocalization and rushing through Muggle traffic made a terrible combination. Hermione felt soon queasy. She tried to look at the horizon but there were trees and houses in her line of sight.

They had barely reached their destination when Hermione clambered down the narrow stairs and hurried to get out of the vehicle. She was in such a haste to leave the dumb bus that she nearly tripped.

The only positive thing about her first ride on the Knight Bus was the fact that it was very short. Their first stop was in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry worriedly. "Your face has lost all color..."

Hermione felt his hand rub her back. "I need a moment!"

"We can sit down in the Leaky Cauldron." Harry suggested softly.

"No!" Hermione squeaked in horror. "No, it smells of food there!"

"Let's check if we find a coffee shop or maybe a small park." Harry took a gentle hold of her arm and pulled her away from the wizard's pub.

They came across an ice cream shop. It was nothing like Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour but they could sit down outside. Somehow, Harry managed to talk the waitress into making them tea.

Half an hour later they stood in front of a white marble building with skewed pillars. Hermione's arm was hooked possessively around Harry's left one – a dimwitted witch had looked a little bit too interested at him. They stepped past the bronze doors of the wizard bank. A goblin in a gold and scarlet uniform eyed them discontentedly.

Inside the main hall Hermione wanted to turn right for the long row of the tellers. She pushed against Harry's side in an attempt to steer him but he held his ground. "We need to talk to the goblin at the end of the hall to access my vault."

"Oh, I forgot!" It had already become a reflex for Hermione to turn to the tellers. She was curious what the underground parts of the bank looked like.

They crossed the wide marble floor. Harry coughed in front of a goblin behind a high counter. The small creature looked at them like they were a disturbance and not customers.

The process of identification was very anticlimatic. Harry handed the small golden key for his vault over. The goblin turned it in his long fingers, looked at it from all sides and handed it right back. He called another goblin to escort them down to an underground station.

An awfully long ride at break-neck speed later Hermione's stomach was again in turmoil. Her skin felt cold and sweaty. She staggered dizzily out of the Gringotts' cart. She breathed in deep but the warm and stale air of the tunnel was unfit to make her feel better. She was no longer sure if she wanted to hold back from vomiting. Maybe she would feel better if she just let go now?

"Are you alright?" Harry whispered worriedly. Hermione registered that he was holding her hair back.

"I... just a minute." she requested.

After a while it became clear that she would not empty the contents of her stomach onto the underground platform. Harry let go of her hair and softly pulled her straight. He hugged her in understanding - and very carefully.

"Vault six hundred and eighty seven is right over here." Their goblin driver groused impatiently.

Harry told him off, "We'll be there in a minute."

Hermione managed slowly to even her shaky breathing. "I'm okay, let's go."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked worriedly.

Hermione glared at him. At least she tried.

Harry's smile told her that he was not afraid at all. He asked in a mocking tone: "Don't make me repeat myself?"

Hermione swatted his chest with the back of her hand. He only chuckled at her expense.

"Your key if you please." The goblin held his hand out expectantly. He looked pretty pissed of.

Hermione glared at him. Not only did she feel sick she had not seen anything of the magical security systems Gringotts had to have placed in the tunnels.

For a second time, Harry handed his key over. This goblin did not check its authenticity. He put it into the lock of the vault, turned it three times and pulled the thick iron door open. A huge pile of golden coins lay on the naked stone floor. It made the prize money of the Triwizard Tournament look insignificant. Harry stepped into the vault. Hermione waited behind the threshold.

A jingling sound could be heard when Harry emptied around half of the pouch onto the huge pile. He turned around grinning lopsidedly at her, "You thought, I exaggerated. Didn't you?"

Hermione huffed. "I asked you, how much money you actually had." She gestured at the huge stack of gold coins. "You could not answer me. So excuse me if I took your description with a grain of salt." She turned to look at the goblin. His positioning was weird. He stood behind the open door and out of sight of the vast amount of coins. "Are there any records how much money is stored in Harry's vault?"

There was a long moment of silence. "Certainly, it's written down somewhere. However Gringotts does not know."

Harry stepped out of his vault and looked curiously around the door. "Why are you standing behind the door?"

"The vaults are private property. We're not supposed to look into them." The goblin explained. "We would not come and rifle through your cupboards either, would we?"

Hermione was flabbergasted, "You don't know how much gold is stored in your bank?"

The goblin reacted affronted, "That would be a major breach of the privacy of our customers."

"The last time I was here, I was told that you check vaults once every ten years." Harry argued with the goblin.

"We only check vaults if the lease is due." Hermione listened interestedly to the scoffing goblin. "The minimum lease time is one decade. Therefore after one decade we would open such a vault and check if there is enough money inside to lease the vault for another decade. However we only do this if we have not received the lease from our customers in advance."

"It's good that we got onto the subject of leasing a vault!" Harry said with surprising eagerness in his voice. "We would like to lease a vault for Hermione Granger."

Hermione's eyes automatically zeroed in on the half filled bag in the wizard's hand. "Harry!"

"I only won - and even more importantly survived - thanks to your help. I think, it's fair." he said genuinely.

Hermione argued, "That's a lot of money." In her opinion it was very unreasonable to give such an amount of money away! "One could buy some very expensive things with so much money."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "I don't think there is any risk of that happening. I've got a pretty good idea what you'll spend those galleons on."

Hermione felt her hair tumble when she shook her head. "I'll not accept it."

"I think, it is fair to share the prize." Harry said stubbornly. He gestured at the contents of his vault. "And I can afford it."

Hermione could not stop herself from looking. There was really a lot of gold in his vault. Her answer was still, "No."

"No? That's not an argument. If you can't even offer a proper argument, you'll have to take this." He pushed the bag full of galleons at her.

She pushed the bag right back at him. It was heavy and she could hear the many coins clinking inside of it. Hermione's voice screech jarringly, "I have to?"

"Yes." Harry said firmly. "You invested as much time into winning the tournament as I did. It's only fair."

Hermione glanced back at the huge pile of gold in Harry's vault. "You were the one taking the risk."

"Your..." Harry glanced at the goblin. "Your magic kept me alive. Please take this Hermione!" His voice got a pleading tone.

A part of Hermione did not want to accept the money. "I've not helped you because of the money!"

"I know."

Hermione glanced from the pile of gold to the pouch in Harry's hand.

"I take that as a yes." Once he had won the argument Harry turned to the goblin. "What's the lease for a vault?"

This change of topic captured the goblin interest. "That depends on the security measurements. High security vaults on the lowest levels have obviously a higher lease than those closer to the surface."

"The cheapest vaults are closest to the surface?" Even Hermione heard the eagerness in her voice.

The goblin grinned. "The vaults closest to the surface are considered to be the least safe. They can be accessed fast. And the deeper you go into our underground system the more traps you have to pass."

"What's the lease for a vault close to the surface?" Hermione requested.

"10 galleons arrangement fee plus 1 galleon for every year of the lease with a minimum duration of a decade." The goblin announced.

At least Hermione understood why the goblin had changed his attitude so suddenly, "You'll do the arrangement?"

He smirked at her, "That's right."

"What's your name?" Harry asked suddenly.

"My name is Gornuk." The goblin bowed although not very deep. He asked Harry. "Are you done?" When the famous wizard confirmed, Gornuk closed the vault and handed his key back.

They drove half the way to the surface. They were not as fast as before. Whether that was due to the short distance or for Hermione's comfort remained Gornuk's secret.

Upon leaving the cart Harry passed the bag onto her. Once more she felt the weight of the golden coins in her hands. She looked unsteadily from the money to Harry's face.

The wizard whispered so the goblin could not hear him. "Maybe, no kiss right now would be appropriate?"

Hermione thought, that was very perceptive of Harry. Holding this amount of money would make her feel icky if she kissed him right now. She frowned. It was hard to weigh the many coins in her hands, "This is more than half of the money!"

Harry shrugged. "You saw the pile of galleons. I saw no reason to waste time on counting five hundred coins. Especially since I don't know how much is in my vault anyway."

"This is like three quarters of the prize money!" Hermione hissed.

Gornuk led them to vault nine hundred and thirty two. It was not nearly as big as Harry's. The door was embedded into the bedrock. For a human it was at waist height. Gornuk dragged a wooden staircase over so he could reach it.

He turned the small golden key stuck in the lock of the vault. Metal could be heard when various bolts unlatched. "Never touch the vault when it is locked." Gornuk instructed them. "All iron doors are cursed. The curses may vary but being stuck by one of them could be the last thing you ever experience."

Gornuk picked up a document placed inside of the vault. It was a contract. "This is the lease agreement." Gornuk pulled a quill out of his sleeve and started filling the gaps on the hand written form parchment. "Feel free to check the vault in any way you like. Please note that you are not allowed to put curses or wards on it. Neither are any enchantments permitted."

Harry and Hermione inspected the stony cupboard thoroughly. It was basically a hole in the bedrock which could be closed by a very thick, metal door. There was really not much to look at. Hermione checked the vault magically. She frowned over the overall weird reactions of her detection spells. It made no sense. Unless... "Are the protective spells magically obscured?"

"Indeed they are." The goblin answered smugly.

Automatically, Hermione listed the more elaborate ways of magical analysis in her mind. If she made use of them and took the weird readings into account, she should be able to determine what kind of magic was used to protect her vault. Alas, she doubted that the goblins would be pleased if she actually found something out about their means of security. Therefore she turned away from her soon-to-be vault.

Gornuk smirked at her when he handed the parchment over. He obviously thought she was unable to crack the goblins' security.

Hermione felt irked over being underestimated but she tried to keep her poker face. She read the contract carefully. Meanwhile Harry listened to the additional explanation of Gornuk, "It's a simple lease agreement. It states the payment terms and that you won't bewitch your vault. You are hereby warned to follow the instructions of all authorized employees of Gringotts. Otherwise you'll suffer the consequences."

Hermione read the parchment twice. The contract was simply worded and very straight forward. She checked the parchment for hidden lines. "Is the contract magically binding?"

"No! It's not!" barked the goblin fiercely. "We don't do Magical Contracts!" Gornuk hissed angrily, "It's an agreement between upstanding business partners. Only fraudsters rely on magical contracts. We are selling a proper service for a correct amount galleons. We provide the service. You offer the galleons. It's a fair deal. There is no need for duress through magical means."

Hermione had detected no magic on the parchment. "Very well." She put her name legibly onto the contract and signed it afterwards. She handed Gornuk twenty galleons and counted a number of coins into her purse. The rest was placed inside of the vault. The heavy iron door got locked by Gornuk and the small golden key was handed over to her.

The rest of their day was spent in Diagon Alley. The manager of Florish and Blotts knew most of the books they would need for their fifth year by heart. Hermione would have liked to buy an entire shelf of books. Through sheer strength of will she managed to limit herself to acquiring only a single stack of additional books.

They got new school uniforms too and had ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Harry was attentive company. For most of their visit to Diagon Alley Hermione was rather pleased with him. The only time she got annoyed was when he stared longingly at the numerous items in Quality Quidditch Supplies without buying any!

In a manner of concluding their excursion, they browsed some shops that sold magical trinkets and knick-knacks. Upon leaving one of the shops Hermione's gaze fell onto the entrance to Knockturn Alley.

Harry startled her, when he said, "There is nothing special in Knockturn Alley. Most shops are rather run down."

"Really?" Hermione felt disappointed. "You've been there?"

"Once." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I came out the wrong fireplace when I used Floo Powder for the first time. I landed in Borgin and Burkes. The shop was filled with dusty cursed stuff."

"How dusty?" Hermione asked out of curiosity.

"Like in a movie." Harry explained.

Hermione tried to make up her mind whether they should take a look nonetheless, when Harry suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, we could go to a cinema tomorrow! I've never been to a cinema."

Hermione frowned involuntarily. "What's wrong with your aunt and uncle?"

Her boyfriend shrugged his shoulders again. "Don't know." Hermione noted that he still hadn't said even a single nice word about his relatives.

"Once we are home, we can take a look at the newspaper and check what's currently running." Hermione also took note how much Harry's face lightened up. It was almost like he never got to do anything fun at home. Back at Hogwarts she had thought his family was poor. After fetching him from the Dursleys, she knew money shouldn't be an issue. Harry's family lived in a single-family house. His uncle had boasted that he was director of a company that produced drills. By now Hermione was sure that Harry's relatives were either very weird or that there was something wrong with them.

Still with a grin on his face Harry said, "We better get going. We're supposed to buy vegetables before your parents return home from work."

Hermione found her second ride with the Knight Bus to be just as bad as her first. Her skin turned cold and sweaty. She shivered and her stomach jumped at every move of the bus.

They had barely stopped when she stumbled out of the triple-decker to get solid ground under her feet. For a moment she thought this might do the trick. She really tried to keep the contents of her stomach inside of her. Alas, the third time was not the charm. One moment Hermione tried to breath calmly. The next she felt her stomach cramp and she started vomiting.

The only thing she had eaten since breakfast were two servings of Florean Fortescue's ice cream. She left a multicolored stain on the ground as proof of her unhealthy choice of food.

Once more Harry had managed to hold her hair back. He talked calmly to her and rubbed her back.

Hermione tried to clean up with a handkerchief. She still felt dirty when she was done. She wanted to drink something but they had nothing and did not dare to use their wands. She felt feeble the entire walk through the park. She did not want to stop at the shops they passed on their way.

Upon setting foot into her front yard Hermione already fumbled for the key of her front door. The lock clicked obediently and the door swung open. However instead of entering she froze on the threshold.

Harry's trunk lay in the center of the hallway. Hedwig sat in her cage right on top of it.

Before she could make up her hazy mind her former teacher for Defense against the Dark Arts, Remus Lupin, appeared in front of her. He grabbed her arm and Harry as well. "Harry! What were you thinking?" He cried out and pulled both of them inside.

The door was slammed shut behind them.

Once set free of the hard grasp Hermione's right hand instantly pulled her wand out. She heard Harry gasp in surprise, "Lupin! What are you doing here?"

And than her wand was fetched away. A second man turned visible. He was taller than her former teacher. Hermione had never seen him in person before, but she recognized his face from his wanted poster. The gaunt wizard was Sirius Black!

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed. He sounded pleasantly surprised.

Hermione could only stare. Sirius Black pointed his own wand at her while he held her wand in his left. His voice was rough, "Harry, I know you don't like it at the Dursleys but you can't just run away!"

"I did not run away!"

Remus said matter-of-factly, "We thought you were at Privet Drive. You were not. You've not told us that you would be here. I call that running away."

Sirius was on edge, "We need to know where you are at all times!"

"How was I supposed to know that?" Hermione could hear the stubbornness in Harry's voice rise, "Nobody ever cared what I was doing during the summer holidays."

"Harry, it's not safe here!" Sirius Black looked at Harry but Hermione knew that he could still see her out of the corner of his eye. He had not aimed his wand at her face for a while but he was only a small turn of his wrist away from pointing it at her.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked half confused and half exasperated. "The Grangers have been very nice to me!"

"Dumbledore told us to fetch you." Remus Lupin announced with finality. He turned to grab Hedwig's cage in one hand and his trunk in the other.

Sirius added, "You'll be staying with us for the rest of the holidays."

"Can't I stay a little bit longer? I've only been here for five days!" Harry pleaded.

"No." answered Remus for the both of them. And just like that the discussion was over.

Hermione watched Sirius drop her wand onto the floor. He gave it a hard kick. It bounced and slithered all the way to the far wall over the polished parquet.

Two cracks later Hermione was alone.


	20. Assassination

Assassination

* * *

A nice and warm day had been followed by a mild night. Everything was perfect to have a good night's rest. It was neither to hot nor to muggy and it was - like always - very quiet in the Grangers' neighborhood.

Hermione was probably the only one in her street who had a problem with falling asleep. She was tossing and turning in her bed. Her thoughts and emotions were in a turmoil for far too many reasons...

Her plan to spend the second half of the summer holidays with Harry had been ruined in the most unexpected way. Her boyfriend's firm believe that nobody cared for his whereabouts had been utterly wrong. Not only had he been fetched up by the former Professor Lupin and Sirius Black after only a few days. It had happened on the suggestion of a third person, namely headmaster Dumbledore.

Harry had been expected to stay with his uncle and aunt. However, instead of returning him, he had been brought to wheresoever those two wizards lived, which unnerved Hermione because that course of action made no sense!

Hermione boxed her pillow while pretending to fluff it up.

Two hours after Harry's quasi-abduction her parents had finally returned from their work. She had told them in no uncertain terms what had happened. However, their reaction had been the opposite of what she had anticipated. Instead of finding her parents to be understanding, she had been dressed down royally!

Her mom had concluded that Harry had not been allowed to come over. They planned to have an earnest talk with her overmorrow. And afterwards they would punish her appropriately. Punish - they had never used that word before!

And like being angry was not enough, Hermione was also puzzled! She turned around and stared at the looming shadows of her bookshelves.

The manner in which Black and Lupin had appeared and left her behind was irritating her. How had they been able to get into her house? Had they managed to do so without magic? How had they done that with the Trace being active? Or had the Trace been disabled? And if so, was that a permanent state or only temporarily?

If she only knew, how the Trace worked exactly! She had tried to look it up but had found only a single reference, which was not completely superficial. The author had used the Trace as an example for explaining why highly sensitive detection enchantments on areas had to be unstable to be sensitive in the first place.

The old grandfather clock in the dinning room announced the quarter hour. It was barely audible with all the frustrated huffing and the rustling of Hermione's blanket.

From general sources she knew: The Trace's primary purpose was to preserve the Statute of Secrecy. Accidental burst of magic by minors had to be registered so they could be reversed and thus hidden. For this purpose the Trace was tuned in on the targeted minor's magic so it could detect even frail wandless magic.

Wand aided casting was generally monitored because the Trace was at best able to discern what kind of wand core had been used but not who had held the wand. The most likely way around the Trace was overall the utilization of wandless magic by one of them.

Hermione tugged on her nightgown, which had wrapped around her way to tightly.

Another question was: How had the two wizards found her? They were not supposed to have knowledge of her address. Dumbledore knew it but he was unable to share the knowledge. As headmaster he was sworn to secrecy in private matters of his students. Harry had definitely not told it to them either – they had complained that he had run away after all.

A deep sigh escaped Hermione's lips.

The unasked-for visit by the two adult wizards had left her, feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Her bed in the Gryffindor dormitory was better warded than her parents house. With the tidbits of information she knew about the enchantment called Trace, Hermione had never dared to cast any protective charms. She had never felt the need to do so too. The knowledge of her perfect anonymity had always consoled her. As matters stood now this protection had been ripped away.

All the twisting and turning had not been good for her hair. It was even more messy than normal. Hermione tried to comb her fingers through it but it was already a lost cause.

To determine how vulnerable her family was now, she would have to figure out, how the precautions to stop anyone from learning about her address had been circumvented. Unbreakable vows and secrecy charms were protecting all personal information and all documents in the Ministry of Magic. It should have been impossible for a wizard to gain knowledge of her address. Unless there was a loophole in the secrecy charms...

Suddenly, the mention of Dumbledore was no longer odd! He must have circumvented the secrecy measures. Somehow, he must have exploited the fact that Lupin was a former professor.

Right then all her distress turned out to be a good thing. Hermione was wide awake when a female voice screamed out a single syllable, "Dan!"

The only witch of Aylesbury sat up straight in her bed. There was no way she could have mistaken her mother's voice or the fact that she had sounded frightened. Hermione felt her heart hammer hard. She grabbed her wand and disillusioned herself. She slipped out of her bed so her blanket would not give her away. She did so just in time.

The door to her room burst open. 'A Reductor Curse' thought Hermione while glancing at the shreds of wood scattered over half of her previously pristine room.

A man in a black coat stepped in. He was tall and burly, the archetype of a thug. His Death Eater mask glinted creepily and made the man look even more menacing than he already was.

The shreds of the door had punched numerous holes into the curtains covering the window. This allowed the lantern in front of the house to cast eerie stripes of light into Hermione's room.

The Death Eater was using this light to search for her. After a few moments his deep voice announced, "I found her room, but she is not here."

A squeaky voice answered from the hall, "I got the parents!"

The man turned to leave. He stopped on the threshold. He turned back and stared in the general direction of Hermione's bed. It was untidy. The Death Eater started to flick his wand in a way the young witch was very familiar with. An incantation left his mouth, "Homenum Revellio!"

Hermione felt her skin prickle. Her invisibility charm was broken. She could see her own arm pointing at the Death Eater. She finished her spell only a moment after him. Her whispered, "Stupefy!" knocked him out.

The man crashed lengthwise to the wooden floor. The sound was loud compared to the silence of the night. And there was no way it could have been mistaken by anyone in this situation.

"You got her?" the other male voice asked cautiously.

Hermione swished her wand, once more turned herself invisible.

Muffled whimpers could be heard. Hermione recognized her mother yet again. She was in pain. The Death Eater hissed, "Shut up you muggle!"

The creaking of floorboards gave away when the wizard moved into the hallway. He cast, "Lumos!" and a moment later a cone of light surveyed Hermione's door. The light from his wand and the angle of its shadows betrayed his position close to the master bedroom. The light of his spell illuminated the feet of the stunned Death Eater, which stretched beyond the threshold. "She got Cook. I can see his feet!"

Hermione took this as her cue to pull the wizard all the way into her room, so he could not get revitalized.

"What's going on?" A third man asked from downstairs.

"Cook is down!" answered the squeaky voice loudly. Emma Granger groaned and the light of the wand got unstable for a moment.

"Shit, you were right." Loud steps announced a third person running upstairs. "She is dangerous."

"I know, I told you so." The annoying voice of the second wizard answered. "Go get her father as a shield."

"Nah, he will only hamper my movements."

One of Hermione's eyes peeked around the corner of the door frame. She saw two wizards in the attire of Death Eaters. A small and overweight one held her mother in front of himself, using her as a human shield. Thick ropes were wrapped around her and another one gagged her.

A slightly taller wizard stood half left and half behind him. The newcomer asked nervously, "Have you seen that?"

"No." the one behind her mom said. He pointed his wand at chest's height and therefore over Hermione's invisible head. She was crouching. "Can you cast the Imperius?"

The newcomer answered, "Not good enough to turn a father against his daughter. Can you?"

"If I could, I would have done so." hissed the high voice of the small wizard. "Go, take the father hostage. Then we will get her. She is still in there."

The third Death Eater hesitated. In the end he turned obediently to the master bedroom.

Hermione knew that she could not allow him to take her father hostage as well. She aimed her invisible wand and once the tall Death Eater stepped past his comrade she barked, "Depulso!"

The targeted Death Eater was hit by a bluish blast of magic. He was yanked of his feet and flew along the length of the hallway like he weighed nothing. He crashed hard into the railing of the staircase. Something cracked and the Death Eater tumbled noisily down to the ground floor.

The small Death Eater had seen where Hermione's spell came from. He sputtered, "Confringo!" and, "Expulso!" The door frame and part of the wall Hermione had been hiding behind got blown apart. Shattered bricks and red dust covered everything. Hermione's room got completely ruined by the flying debris.

She was lucky. She retreated far enough into her room.

A sinister silence followed the short moment of magical activity. Emma gave a muffled sob. A pained groan from the bottom floor indicated that the third Death Eater was still alive.

In the hall were two words clearly spoken, "Homenum Revelio!"

Hermione felt herself getting turned visible yet again.

"Get out or I hurt your mom!" the second wizard threatened and before Hermione could even think her options over, she heard her mother whimper in pain. He squeaked, "Now! Or I'll use Crucio on her! Get out now! Cru-"

Hermione stepped around the corner. Her wand was half raised and ready to defend herself.

Her mother was standing on the tip of her toes. She was barely taller than her daughter but the Death Eater was small enough to hide behind her. The man had grabbed a fist full of her brown hair in his right hand. He pointed the tip of his wand at her throat with his left.

"Throw your wand away!" The Death Eater demanded.

Hermione saw her mother trying to shake her head. Her eyes pleaded her to get back into cover.

When Hermione did not retreat Emma became more desperate. She smashed the back of her head into the man's face.

She whined in pain. The Death Eater giggled high-pitchedly, "That won't work. I enchanted my mask."

Hermione wanted to curse the man for hurting her mother and for laughing at her. Alas, she could not find a clear shot. Her mother's squirming made it entirely possible that she would be the one hit. Hermione felt numb and for some reason out of breath. She registered her sweaty skin and shaky hands. On a rational level she recognized the symptoms of a panic attack. However she could do nothing to keep it at bay. She became single minded. She found herself unable to think of anything but the fact that her mother would get hurt.

Suddenly the Death Eater stopped aiming his wand at Hermione's mom. He snapped, "Expelliarmus!"

It was the one spell Harry used most frequently. Hermione had used the corresponding shield charm in turn so often, she could cast it nonverbally.

The small, overweight wizard cast hastily, "Stupefy!"

Hermione flicked her wand and whispered the shield incantation so quietly it was almost nonverbal.

Noticeably shaken, the small wizard demanded, "D-drop the wand!"

Hermione knew she had at best a few seconds to come up with something. She tried to force herself to think, to find a solution. It was no use, she could not...

Emma Granger slumped to the ground. The Death Eater tried to hold her upright but she had just stopped to support her own weight. Her legs gave in and she fell to the floor. Her muffled voice gave testimony of the pain she felt from her hair getting yanked brutally. The Death Eater was not strong enough to keep her standing without her participation. When he realized this it was already to late.

Hermione had been as surprised by her mother's move as the Death Eater. However, she had been trying to get a clear shot at the wizard when one was suddenly offered to her. She took automatically advantage of it. She cast the first spell that came to her mind.

A green flash of light illuminated the hallway.

The small wizard went completely limp and sunk to the floor.

Her mother scrambled hastily into a sitting position. Her back leaned on the wall. Hermione dispelled the conjured ropes. Emma hurried to get up.

When her mom tried to hug her, Hermione pushed her back and lifted a finger to her lips.

Emma looked in realization at the staircase.

They stepped silently over the dead Death Eater and checked the master bedroom. Emma threw herself instantly at her motionless husband. His limbs were angled weirdly. Hermione hoped the very best and hissed, "Rennervate!"

Her father jerked like he had been hit by an electric charge. The analytical part of Hermione's brain took notice that he had a weaker reaction to the spell than Harry.

"Take care of dad." she said and pulled the door shut behind her. Before her mother could answer she had already sealed the bedroom, "Colloportus!"

The door started rattling just a moment later.

"Silencio!" stopped her mother's screaming before it could start.

Hermione stared at the landing of the staircase. Three steps forward and one turn to the right was the only way downstairs.

Her wand was steadily aimed at the point where the Death Eater would appear once he climbed the stairs.

The realization that her opponent was probably waiting in the same manner was sobering. She needed to come up with something... a plan, a strategy, a clever spell, anything! And she needed to do so fast.

Hermione's mind still refused to work. She thought of the dead man lying behind of her and that it was up to her to save her parents.

How was she supposed to do that? She had no idea at all!

Luckily, she did not need to have an idea herself. All she needed to do was remember someone else's idea. Hermione had read so many books. The answer was already in her head. Alas, she found her memory to be nearly inaccessible. She had to concentrate very hard to remember even the most simple concepts.

Hermione forced her ragged breath to slow down. She tried hard to remember the books she had read about dueling. All she came up with were the most basic instructions. Use a strategy! Get an advantage! Or ruin your opponents plan - like her mother had done.

She tried to think of a strategy but it was hard. Obviously she had to locate her opponent. Without knowing where he was she could not flank him or use any strategy. She did not want to look around the corner. The Death Eater was definitely waiting for that. He was also the one who had seen through her invisibility before. This time he would not hesitate but cast.

What kind of advantage could she achieve? Hermione looked around. She realized, she already had an advantage! The most basic one! This was her home. She had the home advantage! She knew everything about this house. She only had to make use of that knowledge.

She could think of all crooks and crannies the Death Eater could hide in. All she had to do was attack him there without him being able to counter.

A sinister smile spread over her lips. She pointed her wand at the commode at the end of the hallway. She summoned it to herself, stepped to the side and banished it in direction of the staircase. It clattered downstairs like the Death Eater before.

The Death Eater swore angrily. Hermione nodded at herself. She had been right: The man had been lying in an ambush.

With another swish of her wand she summoned her father's favorite armchair. She could not see it but she knew where it stood. It was downstairs. It cluttered through the living room and barreled through the entry hall where the last Death Eater hid. Considering the sound of the collision he was not hit. The next thing Hermione send at him was the grandfather clock. It got blown apart.

The TV was the third item which got summoned by Hermione. It smashed into something and burst into a thousand shards. "That's not working missy!" The Death Eater barked angrily. "I am not some dumb squib that can't cast a proper shield!"

Hermione heard the glass crunch under the wizard's feet. Every second step was accompanied by a grunt of pain. He was hobbling. When his footfalls changed, she realized that he was in the kitchen.

She summoned her shoes from next to the front door. It would not do to step onto the shards of glass she had scattered everywhere by destroying the TV.

Because of those shards there was no way the young witch could keep her steps a secret. Glass crunched under her feet. A blasting curse smashed into the wall opposite of the door before she came even close to the kitchen.

Hermione turned herself invisible again and peeked around the corner. Just a short glance before she retreated. A volley of colored flashes flew past her. Hermione recognized the telltale green of the Killing Curse amongst them.

Despite the shortness of her peek, Hermione had seen the Death Eater. He had taken cover behind the most massive things he had been able to find. The refrigerator, the oven and the dinning table plus chairs were arranged to an improvised rampart. Only his wand arm and his head were visible. It would be very hard to hit him like that and he knew it. "Come here! I will show you... you little mudblood!"

One last time she was in need of an idea. Was there a way to exploit her strengths? Or could she turn his advantage into a disadvantage?

Yes, she could! Hermione said loudly, "Avada Kedavra!" On the last syllable she stepped around the corner. The Death Eater ducked behind his cover. He was so slow, she nearly hit him with the Killing Curse.

He hid behind his cover and taunted, "Missed me, you squib!"

The second step of Hermione's plan was, "Confringo!" She pointed her wand and the refrigerator exploded into a mess of flying metal scraps. The wizard screamed in pain. He had obviously cast a shield charm. He would have been ripped apart otherwise. However, the metal shrapnels had turned out to be too much for his shield. Hermione stepped around the oven but before she could take a look at the wizard he vanished with a crack.

Hermione did not even waste a moment to breath a sigh of relief. She rushed to the master bedroom, unlocked the magically sealed door and found her father sitting on the edge of his marital bed. He was still groggy and Hermione's mom was holding him steady. For the first time ever, the witch felt lucky over the simple fact that her parents were alive.

Hermione's voice was urgent, "We need to leave the house instantly! The last Death Eater escaped. Maybe he'll return with backup."

"We'll take the car." said Emma and pulled her husband onto his two feet. Without further questions the two went for the staircase.

Hermione turned in the opposite direction. She was instantly called out, "Where are you going?"

"I'll be at the car in a minute!" Hermione told her mother and rushed to her room.

The carpet was wet. Hermione looked down and found it blood red. There was a lot of blood. The reason for this was easy to discern. The feet of the stunned Death Eater had been blown away by his comrade when he had tried to kill her.

"Homenum Revelio!" did not indicate anybody's presence. The Death Eater was definitely dead.

Hermione summoned her school satchel. Undetectable Extension Charms made it bigger on the inside than on the outside. It contained her most important possessions. Namely her extracurricular magical books and her notes. She thought about grabbing some clothes as well. Alas, she had neither time for that nor did she want to give the impression that she had been thinking clearly.

She turned her back on the room that she had always referred to as 'her room' for the final time. If she came back, it would only be to salvage what was still usable not to return.

Hermione turned back at the hallway and inspected the wizard she had killed. She felt no remorse. He had threatened her mother. He looked almost peaceful, like he was only asleep. She could not leave him lying like this. The way he had been killed was too obvious. She lifted the small wizard up with magic and sent a blasting curse at his head and upper body.

She left her home behind. The car was waiting for her with the engine running.

* * *

A/N: I am still trying to recruit a new beta-reader. Meanwhile, FunCube has helped me on the none-spelling part of this chapter. Please, everyone bully him so he resumes writing his story.


	21. Owlpost

Owlpost

* * *

Fred and George Weasley were what most people imagined when they thought of twins. They had the same interests and therefore did everything together. The duo was superficially indistinguishable. They switched names at every opportunity to make it hard to pinpoint down the small differences in their personalities.

They had learned early on to appear even more twinish by finishing each other's sentences. It was commonly accepted that their outstanding performances as Beaters were another example of their secret twin powers.

Having a twin brother was the best thing ever for both of them. There were so many opportunities when four hands could do more than two. However, four ears heard not a bit better than two. They had been straining their ears for hours when they finally heard two cracks indicating people arriving by apparition. They shared an impressed look over the short span of time between the two cracks. "Almost in sync!" they said together.

The twins abandoned their cleaning duties and rushed to the hallway. They arrived just in time to see Remus putting down a heavy trunk. Sirius stood right next to Harry who ogled at the place.

George could not blame him. 12 Grimmauld Place was really something else. Everything was dark and gloomy. The furnishing was either rundown like the carpet or absolutely creepy - the troll foot and the shrunken heads of house-elves were the prime examples for this.

The younger wizard gasped, "What? … Why? …" His head turned around wildly in confusion. He was clearly disoriented. "Grimmauld Place? Headquarters? Order of the Phoenix? Where are we?"

"This is my house," Sirius announced in disgust. "We are at 12 Grimmauld Place. And the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located in this very house."

George watched Harry's mouth open several times before he finally found his voice, "What was the slip of parchment about?"

"The Fidelius Charm," Fred explained. Harry turned to look at him. George took this as his cue to elaborate, "It's a charm that seals the knowledge of a location away." In reaction to Harry's look of confusion, Fred added, "It's unbelievably powerful magic." When Fred stopped yet again, George took over, "The slip of paper let you in on the secret." Fred finished with a flourish, "You can now come and go!" George glanced out of the corner of his eye at his twin brother and they managed to pull off chorusing perfectly, "Hi, Harry!"

Ron stepped forward and clapped his shoulder, "Mate, nice to have you back! Where have you been?"

Ginny remained at the back of the group. She chirped a short, "Hi!"

George glanced secretly at Fred. When the Order had descended into chaos over Harry leaving his disgusting relatives' house, the two of them had had a short and secret argument over whether it had been really clever or really dumb to keep everyone out of the loop.

For a moment Harry's face brightened. His mouth was already open to greet the lot of them but when he said, "Hi!" the word came out harsh and he scowled. He whirled around and snapped at the two adult wizards, "What am I doing here?"

"You are here to stay for the rest of the summer holiday," Remus answered unfazed. "The real question is what gave you the idea to run away?"

Harry snapped, "I did not run away! I told you so before." Harry blinked in confusion. George thought it looked like he was surprised by his own words. "I asked uncle Vernon for permission." Harry spit the name out like a curse. "And I asked the Grangers. All were fine with me staying in Aylesbury for the rest of the summer! And I don't see how that's any of your business!"

"Your safety is our business," stressed Sirius.

Harry gaped in utter shock at his godfather. For some reason, this really made him angry. His eyes became small slits and he hissed, "What are you talking about? It's perfectly safe there." George watched Harry's shoulders grow tense. "The Grangers are nice people, they would never hurt me. I'm sure they never even considered killing anybody! Not even out of revenge!"

George glanced at his twin but he too had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Even so, Sirius and Remus shrunk back like beaten dogs. George noticed that Ron did not look confused. He elbowed Fred who nodded secretly.

Remus huffed, "We are most certainly not having that discussion in front of an audience!"

"Is that the reason you kidnapped me from Hermione's place?" Harry snarled.

"We did not kidnap you!" Sirius exclaimed in shock. "How can you say something like that?"

Remus was just as distressed, "Sirius is your godfather and Dumbledore said..."

"One moment!" Harry lifted his arms and looked at the house. When he was done he fixed a glare on Sirius. "It's been a little over a year that you offered to take me in, Sirius. I said, Yes. And then I could not. I understood why you could not stand up to your promise back then. It made total sense that you could not take me in. You are still a wanted man after all. So I returned to Privet Drive last summer without complaining. And so did I this year." Harry gestured at the stairs. "What has changed? I was not even a week at the Grangers. And all of the sudden I find myself here at your place."

The last two words had been too loud. Finally, Harry's voice had crossed the threshold that brought the painting of Walburga Black yelling into the arena. In George's opinion, it had only been a question of time from the very beginning.

The swearing had become repetitive a long time ago. Sirius seemed to be as tired as anyone of her insults and drew her curtains shut before she could really start screaming.

Ron explained to the newest arrival, "We can't be too loud or she throws a temper tantrum. Don't worry, over time you'll get the hang of it."

"Oh, really? And how much time have you had to grow used to it?" Harry's voice was leveled in a dangerous calmness.

George thought it was like watching a bludger crash into one of the cute Gryffindor Chasers. Ron was completely oblivious to the goal of Harry's question, "We've been cleaning this place all summer..."

George could actually see when Harry stopped listening once he got the information he had been fishing for. He turned abruptly to Sirius, "You really fetched me only because I was at Hermione's place? I thought you of all people would be happy for me for getting away from the Dursleys!"

Harry's accusation really hit home. Sirius looked hurt, his voice had a pleading tone, "I wanted to fetch you pup, but Dumbledore wouldn't allow it."

"You keep mentioning the headmaster. What's he got to do with any of this?"

Remus answered without revealing anything, "Dumbledore has only your safety in mind."

"You're acting like the Grangers are a tribe of cannibals!" Harry barely refrained from screaming.

"I'm sure the Grangers are perfectly fine people," Remus said tiredly. "But that has nothing to do with the fact that you ran away."

"Stop saying that I ran away!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs.

That sent the portrait of Walburga into an instant frenzy! Sirius had a hard time subduing her this time.

George watched his mom step out of the kitchen. She hissed, "What's going on here?" When she saw Harry standing in their midst, she sighed in relief and rushed over to hug him. "Harry! We were worried. Dumbledore told us that you ran away from your uncle and aunt. You should not run away!"

Harry pressed out between clenched teeth, "I did not run away."

George thought that Harry was clearly trying to keep his temper in check with their mom. In turn, she said worriedly, "We did not know where you were."

"You..." Harry hesitated mid-sentence. "I don't need to ask for your permission."

"That's true Harry, I'm not your mom." George bit his tongue and gave his twin a punch to the shoulder so he would not say, what they both had thought. Molly went on, "And I can't give you permission for anything. Not even for visiting Hogsmeade. But I worry nonetheless." Harry took a deep breath and was about to say something but he didn't get the chance. "I need to take care of supper. Ron, Harry will be rooming with you. Show him the way."

They all left the entrance hall. The discussion continued. A lot of things were said. Their argument got nowhere. Harry kept refuting that he ran away and neither Sirius or Remus were willing to reveal why he had to stay at Grimmauld Place.

Supper rolled around without any resolution to the argument. George had seen glimpses of the younger wizard's animosity when they all thought Harry had entered his name into the Goblet of Fire of his own volition. Sirius and Remus were completely taken aback. They only knew good-natured, complacent Harry.

Sirius and Remus were quite clearly in over their head. Their argument with Harry was stuck in a pointless back and forth. George thought it was their fault since they were unable to understand or relate to anything Harry said. And repeating "Be reasonable, Harry!" was not going to solve anything.

In the end, their dad intervened. George never found out whether it was on his own account or if their mom had sent him. He took Harry aside and the two of them spent half an hour in the privacy of Ron's room. When Harry reemerged he had calmed down and had supper with them. He pointedly ignored Remus and Sirius but George thought that was a great improvement in terms of interaction.

* * *

An Order meeting took place shortly after supper. While the members trickled in Ron filled Harry in on the details about the Order of the Phoenix. Harry could not wrap his mind around the fact that Snape was actually a member and forgot for a while to be angry.

George glanced at Fred, silently asking if they should listen in on the meeting with their extendable ears. Fred shook his head which was probably a good idea since Harry was too agitated and could not be trusted to not burst in on the meeting once his name came up.

By unspoken agreement, the twins tried to distract Harry from the meeting downstairs. Fred said, "Don't worry!" and George added, "We all believe you."

"Sure we do!" Ron exclaimed looking weirdly at them.

George looked at his younger brother, "No matter what the Prophet" Fred jumped in, "or Cedric Diggory said."

Upon the mentioning of the Hufflepuff champion, Harry frowned in confusion, "Cedric?"

George had really expected Harry to keep track of the Daily Prophet, his name was mentioned on every page after all. "So, you've not read it?"

Fred added dismissively, "Cedric unloaded a cart of bullshit."

George, in turn, said hurriedly, "You shouldn't worry about it!"

"Yeah, he's an arrogant ponce just like his father." agreed Fred. "Nobody in his right mind listens to any of them."

"No, I've read nothing. I unsubscribed. The owls drove uncle Vernon bonkers. And the rag is a waste of paper anyway!"

Fred had the last word on the matter, "That's true enough."

"What exactly has Cedric said?" Harry asked with a frown.

"The usual, what an awesome guy he is and so on," George answered in pointed casualness. He hurriedly spoke on so his twin brother could not butt in, "How did you get away from the Dursleys?"

Harry was not only willing but eager to explain that he had been given permission to go to the Grangers. The three Weasley brothers were baffled - all Harry had to do was ask? George tried to steer their discussion into a harmless direction. He made especially sure to chime in every time Ron complained about all the cleaning they had been forced to do.

After more than two hours the meeting concluded without any changes in the situation. Harry was to remain at Grimmauld Place for the remainder of the summer holidays. He had another row with Sirius and Remus about that.

At some point, the discussion shifted to whether Harry was allowed to write a letter to Hermione. Remus argued that a snowy owl departing from and arriving at Grimmauld Place was a safety issue. While the Fidelius Charm would keep anyone from realizing where their hideaway was exactly the general location would be betrayed by Hedwig if someone managed to follow her.

The need for secrecy and Harry's wish for contacting Hermione were seemingly irreconcilable. And George correctly anticipated this to be the straw to break the camel's back. And soon enough they were not listening to each other anymore.

In the end, their dad intervened again. He allowed Harry to send Hermione one letter with Hedwig under the condition that this was the single exemption from the rule. All further letters would be taken by him to the Owl Postal Service where he would also collect Hermione's answers.

Before he finally retired for the evening, their dad reminded Ron and Ginny that their mom thought them to be asleep already. Grumbling, they left Harry behind to write his letter. George gestured secretly for Fred to return to their room as well.

* * *

It was the middle of the night but the twins managed to wake up at exactly the same moment.

"Did you..." Fred started and George finished, "...hear that?"

Another thump could be heard. Glass shattered. Next, the portrait of Walburga Black started to scream and swear. Other voices joined the hubbub.

Unwillingly, George pictured Tonks having a major mishap. Her clumsiness was already legendary.

Fred slipped out of his bed first. George followed closely. On the landing of the second floor, they met their irritated parents and Ginny, who asked sleepily, "Wha's goin on?"

Their mom ordered her, "Get back into bed, my dear."

Which was entirely the wrong thing to say if you wanted Ginny to get back into her bed. She squared her shoulders and pushed her chin forwards. Fred did not need to look to know that his brother rolled his eyes as well. Their sister had become mulish. George tried to stop the upcoming argument, "Let's check..." Fred finished, "...it out!"

One floor lower and the five Weasley's came across Ron, Harry, and Remus. Shattered trinkets and a knocked-over side table were scattered on the landing. The upholstery of two armchairs was ripped apart.

Hedwig had returned. She sat on a high wardrobe. She was pruning her feathers. The snowy owl looked very content. She had brought Harry an answer from Hermione in record time.

Ron was already turning back for his bed. Remus and their mom started swishing their wands to repair the broken furniture and knick-knacks. The general sentiment was one of annoyance over getting woken up in the middle of the night for no reason at all.

George had been about to turn around and leave when he noticed that Harry's mouth hung open in shock. It was hard to see because he held the letter so close to his face. "Hermione has been attacked! Three wizards broke into her home and..."

Sirius returned from the entrance hall right then and snatched the letter out of Harry's hands.

Hedwig screeched in anger.

Harry hurried to placate his pet, "It's alright! I already read it! Sirius can take a look at it!"

"I want you all to return to your beds!" Molly snapped in a voice that allowed no talking back. "Ginny, Fred, George, Ron!"

Ron, who had reappeared, dared to open his mouth, "But Harry..."

"Ronald, get back in your bed right now!" The mature witch stared her youngest son down. Once Ron was retreating she glared at Fred and George, "You too!"

Fred and George hurried to obey their mom. It was of no use to waste time arguing with her when they could just listen in on everything said with their extendable ears. The last they heard on their own was, "She wants us to send Aurors to her home..."

They got their magical eavesdropping device positioned and retreated into their room. Ginny was already waiting for them. Fred offered her an earplug.

They heard Remus voice like he was just outside of their door. "I'll send my Patronus to Tonks."

"I'll do the same with Shacklebolt," Sirius added instantly. "Tonks is a rookie. It would be best to have someone there who has some leverage."

"Good thinking!" Remus complimented.

"But what about Hermione?" Harry sounded very worried. The twins shared a look.

Fred and George heard their mom answer that question, "For the time being she and her parents should come here. It does not get any safer than this house. We can't be even sure if they are out of danger yet."

"I agree." Their dad said instantly.

Molly mused, "We will have to call Dumbledore so he can share the secret with them."

"I agree with you, we have to inform Dumbledore," Arthur confirmed. "However, there is no immediate need for them to know about the secret. We can apparate to the doorstep and lead them into the house by the hand."

"You can get around the Fidelius Charm that easily?" Sirius asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," Arthur confirmed in an even voice. "It is just the knowledge of the location that is hidden not the house itself." In light of his eccentricities, it was even for his children easy to forget that he was not only a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement but the leader of a small division who executed raids on occasion. "Can I have a look at the letter next?" The extendable ears allowed them to hear the sound of the crinkling parchment.

Sirius had a hard time accepting that fact, "But the charm... How do you know? And why was I not made aware of that?"

"It is not basic knowledge." Mr. Weasley said off-handedly. "But I could hardly conduct a raid for Dark magic items without knowing these things."

Their mom snapped, "Stop wasting time - call Nymphadora and Kingsley already!"

Given their hushed voices, Sirius and Remus were doing as they were told.

Mr. Weasley asked, "Harry, can you think of a place, we could meet with the Grangers? It must be easy to find for us, not too far away from their house but not too close either."

"There's a church." Harry offered after a moment of thinking.

"That's the perfect location, Harry." Arthur spoke calmly, "I want you to write Hermione and her parents that we have sent Aurors to their house. Meanwhile, we would like to invite them to stay with us. Explain to them that we will wait for them at that church."

Harry was obviously writing the letter because he was advised to add certain things to it, "Write our house is magically protected and very safe."

"Add that it has strong wards, traps, and the Fidelius Charm too," Sirius added eagerly.

"Who will fetch them?" Molly asked. "That should be in the letter."

"Remus and I." Sirius offered instantly.

"No," Arthur said nearly as fast. "You're still a wanted wizard. Molly and I will go. And Remus because Harry's girlfriend will recognize him. He was her Professor after all."

"I want to come along!" Harry said.

"No." Arthur declared, "This isn't a field trip."

"But they know me too, we picked up Harry just this afternoon!" Sirius sounded more than just a little bit whiny. "And I can turn into Padfoot and nobody will know!"

Fred and George glanced at Ginny who whispered, "Sirius is always so desperate to leave the house!"

"Sirius Black!" Molly hissed. Fred and George flinched upon hearing the tone. "This is neither the time nor the place for one of your petulant displays. You will stay here and keep an eye on the house and the children."

Arthur supported his wife, "We've had a Death Eater attack. There will be dozens of witches and wizards busy with covering that up. There will be Aurors, Obliviators, staff from the Magic Reversal Squad, someone from the Committee of Muggle-Worthy Excuses and who knows who else!" Arthur lost most of his usual serenity with every additional word he spoke, "We will not risk retrieving three people up who have just been attacked by Death Eaters because you think it's not fun to stay here and secure headquarters. Four of my children and Harry Potter are here and we all know that they are not sleeping right now. You will watch over them!" He had finished his little speech with an unmistakable order.

Once Harry's letter was off with Hedwig, he was sent back to his room. He argued unsuccessfully that he wouldn't sleep anyway and wanted to stay up.

Fred and George hurriedly retracted their extendable ears. They knew their mom would check their floor now. Ginny tried to return to her room but she was caught sneaking in the hallway.

* * *

The twins slept through the rest of the night. While they were dressing, they confirmed to each other that this had to be a good sign. All members of the Order had a tendency to forget the portrait of Mrs. Black whenever they had important news to share.

Upon descending the stairs the twins ran into Harry. He was sitting in one of two ancient armchairs in the hallway of the first floor. He held a Quidditch magazine in his hands, which he ignored completely. His eyes were fixed on the door at the end of the hallway that led to the guest room Order members used when they stayed overnight.

When they greeted their fellow Quidditch teammate, Harry nearly jumped out of his skin and ruined their twin-speak. George lost track and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

Harry looked miserably at him, "I just want to make sure Hermione is alright, I barely got the chance to hug her when she arrived."

Fred gestured downstairs. "Why has the old hag not woken us all up?"

"Hermione and her parents were absolutely calm when they entered." The dark-haired wizard glanced worriedly at the door at the end of the hall. He whispered, "It was really unsettling. Emma did most of the talking. She didn't even raise her voice when she accused Remus and Sirius of leading the Death Eaters to their house."

Fred tried to tickle more information out of Harry but their friend was barely listening. His eyes remained focused at the door the entire time, too worried to be a good source of information.

They dismissed their futile endeavor and went downstairs for breakfast. Harry preferred to stay behind which was really no big surprise to George.

The kitchen table was almost empty. Remus fled the scene as soon as they arrived. Their dad had already left for the Ministry. Sirius was having one of his episodes and slept in. Their mother was too busy nervously bustling around to even sit with them.

In a quiet moment, Ron filled them in on some very peculiar details. He had been awake when the Grangers arrived.

"Hermione said it was Sirius' and Remus' fault that her family was attacked by the Death Eaters. They should not even try to deny it and they better not suggest some obscure magical method had been used to track her. That would be as ridiculous as claiming her family had been watched through their ..." Ron frowned before he mouthed the word, "Tell-I-Vision. She said, in the end, the timing proved it was their fault."

Fred was utterly confused, "What's a 'Tell-I-Vision'?"

"Harry said it's a Muggle thing." Ron shrugged his shoulders, "There is one in every house. They place it next to their couches."

Ron had been half asleep at best when the Grangers arrived in the wee hours of the morning. His retelling of the whole incident was to be taken with a grain of salt.

* * *

It was mid-morning when the twins heard steps in front of their room. They hurriedly hid the stuff they had been working on. Fred checked the hallway when nobody entered their room. "That was only Remus. He is climbing the stairs to the top floor."

"Sirius' room is on the top floor." George shrugged and went back to calculating the ingredient cost of their newest product. "Remus probably wants to check if he's gotten up by now."

"Maybe." Fred stared thoughtfully in the direction of the stairs. He picked up two extendable ears and slipped upstairs to position the listening devices.

George was not as curious as his twin. He picked up one of the earplugs nevertheless. "... not come to bring you breakfast." were the first words he heard.

"And what else brought you all the way up here?" asked Sirius with a sigh.

"I thought about the attack on the Grangers."

It was then that Fred returned. While he fiddled about with another earplug he asked, "What did I miss?"

George whispered, "Nothing."

Sirius snorted, "You're not the only one."

Before Fred could ask what the two wizards were talking about, Remus said, "We should take the blame for betraying the Grangers' address."

The answer to that suggestion was screamed so loudly the twins nearly went deaf, "We are not at fault!"

"I know! I know." Remus said soothingly.

"Why do you want us to take the blame then?" The end of the question was accompanied by a loud wooden sound. Sirius must have hammered his fist onto some piece of furniture.

Remus remained calm, "Who do you think is at fault?"

"I don't know! Nobody knows!" Sirius hissed, "Do you think we're at fault?"

"No."

George heard someone pacing back and forth. Every single step was easy to discern on the creaking floor.

Their former teacher asked, "Do you honestly think, that it was a coincidence that Hermione's home got attacked last night? Only a few hours after we were there and picked up Harry."

Sirius stopped moving abruptly. "We agreed just now that it was not us that lead the Death Eaters there!"

"And I can't imagine how we would have done that," Remus answered. "We used the Portkey Dumbledore gave us to travel from Hogwarts to Aylesbury and apparated straight back again. There was no opportunity to track us."

There was a moment of silence. "So, you agree that someone else found them? Completely without our help?"

Remus sighed, "I know we are not at fault but the timing is not a coincidence either!"

Sirius complained petulantly, "You're making no sense!"

"What would you call this kind of coincidence?"

Sirius answered smugly, "I would call that good timing on our part."

Consequently, Remus asked, "So we were lucky to pick Harry up yesterday and not today?"

"Well," Sirius smugness crumbled, "Harry could have helped Hermione defend her family. Mind you, I think, he was lucky to not be involved in that mess."

The silence that followed this statement was so long Fred started examining the extendable ears. George returned to working on his calculations. They both flinched when Remus announced, "I don't think Harry was born under a lucky star."

"Divination?" Sirius laughed dryly. "Really?"

"Call it whatever you want," Remus grumbled. "Harry has been there for days but Hermione's house got attacked once he was gone!"

Sirius gasped like he had been struck by understanding. His voice was disbelieving, "You suspect her to be the primary target!"

"The thought crossed my mind."

"That makes no sense!" argued Sirius. "She is only a target because of Harry. Why would the Death Eaters spare him in favor of her?"

"I don't know. It's really strange and worth considering but this is not what I wanted to talk about." Remus left a dramatic pause.

George looked in puzzlement at Fred. However, his brother seemed not to think that it was strange to only get to the real point of the discussion now.

Finally, Remus said, "Somebody needs to be at fault."

"Somebody is at fault!" Sirius stressed.

"Yes, I know," Remus answered evenly. "But until we find out who that person is, somebody needs to take the blame."

The formerly loud voice of Sirius Black was reduced to a whisper, "What are you suggesting?"

Remus swallowed thickly. "Harry is going to blame himself."

The other wizard rushed to point out, "Harry is not at fault! He could not have anticipated this at all. The Death Eaters are the ones to be blamed! They are..."

The desperate rant got interrupted, "He'll blame himself regardless." Their former Hogwarts Professor sighed, "He's like that."

The twins were introduced to a variety of very creative swear words. George knew that Fred was adding them to his vocabulary for special occasions – he was doing the same after all.

"We have to do it, Sirius," Remus hissed urgently, "We will both take the blame. We will apologize to Hermione and her family. And we will tell Harry that we are sorry."

"Harry will hate us," Sirius whined in a sullen voice.

"Given time, Harry will forgive us. We'll tell him that we don't know how it happened. He'll be angry but in the end, he'll understand." Remus went on, "It'll be easier for Harry to forgive us than himself."

Sirius whined in a way that was barely human. "We need to buy him something!"

"I was actually thinking of giving money to the Grangers," Remus said.

Sirius gasped in understanding, "If we are at fault for the attack, I should compensate them for the damage on their house. It is the least I can do!" Sirius laughed like he had no worries at all.

Fred and George exchanged a worried look. Sirius switched between extreme emotions like they were nothing. This was not normal.

Sirius added giddily, "It's not even a real bribe! It's just to keep up appearances!" There was a single clap of hands. "I'll give them enough money so they can buy themselves two new houses!"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm." Remus said reassuringly, "But do you even have enough money for that? Their house is pretty big..."

Sirius laughed cheerfully. "The Black's reputation to be wealthy is well earned." His next laughter cruised the borders of sanity. "You could say I'm siriusly rich!"

Remus was not amused, "You're an idiot."

"That hurt!" Sirius said in mock-hurt. "And, please take note, siriusly rich idiots are called eccentrics."

"I don't know why you're chipper all of a sudden," Remus complained.

"Because the forecast is sunny - as the Muggles say." Sirius was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

Fred's finger tabbed his forehead. George nodded reluctantly.

Remus grumbled, "We still have to find out what really happened!"

"You and I – we can do that!" Sirius' showcased confidence was slightly hampered by gasps for air.

* * *

Another hour later all Weasley siblings, their mom, and Harry had gathered for lunch. Sirius and Remus were there as well. They had apologized to Harry, who was still stabbing his food but had stopped investing all his energy in glaring. Given how easily he had forgiven Ron, George expected him to absolve the two adult wizards in no time at all. His broody mood might have been at least partially accountable as well.

The peaceful clattering of silverware was interrupted when the second Weasley parent burst into the kitchen. He looked at the table harriedly, "Where are the Grangers?"

Molly answered, "Still in the guest room. What's the...?"

Arthur was already running upstairs.

After a moment of confusion, they left their plates behind and followed him. Molly was telling them to resume eating before the food got cold. Alas, she was giving an example of opposite behavior.

They easily found Mr. Weasley banging on the door of the Grangers. He was ignoring all of their questions.

After nearly a minute the door opened a tiny crack. A livid Mrs. Granger hissed, "What is your problem?"

"I need to talk to you and Hermione! Hermione mostly." Arthur answered urgently. "I'm on my lunch break and I've got to be back in the ministry in about ten minutes." The door was pulled open all the way. Hermione and Mr. Granger stood there in an odd mixture of pajamas and jackets. "Hermione, you were charged for the events of last night. The trial will be held this afternoon!"

"What do you mean? She's being charged?" Molly asked indignantly.

Her husband turned halfway around. "Exactly what I said. I heard she got charged with murder and for breaking the Statute of Secrecy."

"That's ridiculous. She was attacked in her own home." Sirius argued instantly.

"Would all of you please let me tell what I overheard? I've really got no time to waste." Arthur said with a sudden sharpness.

When everyone fell silent, Mr. Weasley did not waste a moment, "Perkins told me over lunch that he had met another Ministry employee in the Owl Post Office in Diagon Alley. He had been charged with sending a letter to Hermione. They palavered how to pronounce your name! When Perkins told me this, I instantly knew that the owl would be unable to deliver its message because this house is under the Fidelius Charm."

Remus explained hurriedly for the benefit of the Grangers, "The Fidelius Charm makes a secret out of the knowledge of a certain place. Nobody who is not let in on the secret can then find said place. Thus the owl can't find Hermione."

Arthur waved for Remus to shut up. "The ministry has been in an uproar all morning. It's not too hard to gather information. Business, as usual, has stopped. People are only talking about the attack on your home. Fudge has given orders that all gathered information of the ongoing investigation is to be delivered to him personally." Arthur took a deep breath. "At around eleven o'clock Fudge called for a meeting of the Wizengamot for this afternoon! The owl was sent around that time as well. The attack on your home is the only item on the agenda. An exclusive interview with the Daily Prophet is scheduled to present the verdict right after. Fudge plans to conclude the matter today!"

"That's ridiculous!" Sirius repeated his earlier statement. "They need more time for a thorough investigation."

"I know," Arthur said in distress while gesturing for Sirius to shut up. "But Fudge has other ideas. He has put two dozen wizards on the case! He is determined to get his verdict today! I think he wants to undermine Dumbledore's attempts at proving Voldemort's return by solving the case against Hermione."

It was the first time Hermione said something, "He wants to deny, that the three wizards are Death Eaters."

"Exactly!" Arthur nodded fiercely. "Now listen, I have no idea how the letter to you was exactly worded but I overheard people who have been trustworthy sources of information in the past. I think the charges are authentic... Especially since I know that Senior Undersecretary Umbridge is bringing the case against you. She is..." Arthur glanced at his children, "Don't you dare speak of anybody like this!" Aimed at the Grangers he went on, "Umbridge is a spiteful, callous spinster. Expect the worst of her at any given moment and she'll still manage to surprise you!"

George wasn't the only one staring at his dad in shock. He went on, "I know for sure that the meeting of the Wizengamot is scheduled for four o'clock."

"On such short notice?" Remus exclaimed enraged. "They want her to miss the session entirely!"

Arthur did not heed the other wizard, "Hermione, you should be early by at least one hour. And they will most certainly want to take a look at your wand too."

Hermione showed them two pieces. "It's broken."

The gathered wizards and witches took hissing breaths. Molly was the first to speak, "I'm so sorry, dear!"

Arthur looked perplexed. "I'm sorry too. They'll want to have a look at it anyway. I am pretty sure that you were ordered in the letter to meet some Auror to hand your wand over. I will try to find out which one and when the exact appointment with him or her is. Maybe Shacklebolt or Tonks know about it. But don't worry, even if they don't, I'll find out and let you know."

Dan coughed and asked politely, "Can't we just ask the Senior Undersecretary for a copy of the letter."

Arthur shook his head vehemently. "Keep away from her at all cost! She would never help you. She looks down on Muggles and Muggle-borns alike."

"That's racist." Emma snapped.

Arthur spread his arms helplessly, "I know but I can't do anything about it."

"We have to ask for a continuance. We should at the very least wait for the investigation to finish. And we should be given the chance to prepare thoroughly." Dan tried to reason with Mr. Weasley.

The red-haired wizard shook his head, "If you are summoned by the Wizengamot, you have to show up." Arthur wrung his hands. "If Hermione is not at her own trial for any reason, there will be nobody to defend her interests. Someone could even claim she is on the run." Arthur explained reluctantly, "In that case, I could even imagine that it could be within the realms of possibility that Hermione could be sentenced in absentia. You should not take the risk. It is extremely rare for the Wizengamot to repeal any decision it has made."

Uneasy silence followed when everyone imagined the consequences of that.

Arthur went on optimistically, "Anyway, I doubt that Hermione will be sentenced if she appears in front of the Wizengamot. All she has to do is tell them about the raid. Kingsley confirmed everything she told us. Kingsley is reliable and a highly respected Auror. Nobody will doubt his word when he makes his report. And since he was the first at your house, he is in charge of the case. Fudge is also known to have a preference for him. He asks for Kingsley as his personal escort all the time."

Arthur turned to Molly. "I'll be going back to the ministry. I'll try to gather more information. Meanwhile, you prepare Hermione." His last sentence was barely discernible since he was halfway down the stairs.

The first part of the preparation was finding clothes for Hermione. Given the prejudices, none of them was in the mood to send her to the Wizengamot in Muggle clothes.

George heard his mom offer instantly, "Ginny and Hermione are nearly the same size."

Looking at the girls in question Mrs. Granger nodded, "Which house is Ginny in?"

"Gryffindor of course," Ginny said in a way like she had been offended.

"Perfect!" Mrs. Granger clapped her hands. "Hermione can wear one of your Hogwarts uniforms."

"I am sure we can find something more pretty." Molly offered generously. "Ginny has a new gown which..."

"No, a Hogwarts uniform is best!" Emma interrupted the witch. She took a deep breath to calm herself, "Please. A uniform is the perfect choice. It will remind everyone that Hermione is only a student."

Everyone's face lit up in understanding but it was Ginny, who said, "That's clever!"

Ginny, Hermione, and their respective mothers went upstairs to fetch a uniform. George saw his mom turn around on the last stair. "If the lot of you has nothing to do, get into the library and check the laws!"

So, instead of going back to the kitchen they all went to read up on various laws. It was a tedious task. It was hard to find anything about burglars or intruders at all. On the other hand, there were so many regulations and decrees about the Statute of Secrecy - it was incomprehensible! In the time given they found nothing really matching to Hermione's situation which luckily did not matter in the end. When Hermione came around to peck Harry goodbye, George realized that the entire task had been a scheme to keep them occupied.

* * *

A/N: I've got a new beta-reader! You just witnessed his handiwork. I've been found by The White Wolf of Remnant! Let's see how many mistakes I can smuggle past him... and somehow FunCube tricked me into sending him the chapter early under the premise he would look it once over... he actually found some odd lines... and then gahmeep stepped in. And she did an awesome job at polishing the text. But don't worry, I'm really experienced at underhandedly making mistakes and I'm almost confident there are still some hidden.


	22. Trial

**Trial**

* * *

Someone had thought 'vaulted ceiling' when he had created the small chamber. And then half of a toppled stone cylinder had been built. A lot of space was wasted due to the lack of vertical walls. In an attempt to make the most of the claustrophobic space, two wooden benches had been placed too close to the curve of the archway. Even Hermione, who was by no means tall, had to lean forward to not bump her head on the rough stone.

The silence and the absolute lack of anything to distract her soon became oppressive. Hermione wished she had a book, or at least someone to talk to. She could not even concentrate on anything but her insecurity about what was going to happen. Instead, she had to concentrate to keep herself from grinding her teeth. She really, really detested not being in control!

For the time being all she could do was wait. Her hands were figuratively tied. Hermione had little doubt that she could iron out all doubts. This would be easy compared to the basilisk incident! She had defended her own home. And the Aurors could tack nothing on her. For them it had to look like she fought with the same means as the attackers. Umbridge might blow up a simple hearing as a trial but she'd not give the woman anything to further her career.

The solid iron door of the chamber swung open with a creak. The wizard who had watched her ordered gruffly, "Sit on the chair. Don't talk unless spoken to." He had spent half an hour with her and those were the first words he had said.

The bushy haired witch tried to hide her irritation when she stepped into Courtroom Ten. Encountering the Wizengamot with a scowl on her face would probably make a bad first impression.

She had barely entered when the heavy door thundered shut. Hermione was startled but she forced herself to not turn around. This was obviously a mind game.

The courtroom stuck to the theme of the antechamber. Blank stone walls curved over Hermione's head and formed an underground cupola. The sparse illumination through torches did nothing to improve the drab atmosphere.

The young witch faced a wall of wizards and witches. They sat on high risers of wooden benches. In contrast, the chair reserved for her was made out of iron. It was placed in the middle of a wide and empty space right under the highest point of the cupola. Multiple chains were attached to the chair. Thoughts about medieval torture chambers floated through her mind. The clever bookworm realized that everything was arranged in a manner to intimidate her. Alas, the realization only did so much for calming her pounding heart.

Hermione sat down very reluctantly. She found the chair was bloody cold and felt just as uncomfortable as it looked. Because of the chains, She did not dare to place her hands on the armrests. Better to not risk getting tied up for real.

All other seats were aligned to look down on her but nobody bothered with her arrival. Some heads briefly turned to glance at her but most of them were too busy to pay attention to her. Everyone wore black. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief over Ginny's black cloak and the school uniform underneath.

Some long and very annoying minutes later, a wizard pointed her presence out to Minister Fudge. He briefly looked at her and soon tried to get order into the courtroom. For this purpose, he waved his wand. It produced a sound indistinguishable from a wooden gavel. He exclaimed, "Silence! Silence!" The whispering diminished slowly.

Fudge only stopped his banging when the last wizard fell silent. "Thank you for assembling on such short notice." Some wizards and witches close to him murmured in a placating manner. Fudge smiled and nodded to the right and to the left. Others grumbled disapprovingly. Hermione noticed that some seats were suspiciously empty.

Fudge coughed and his voice changed to a more official sounding intonation, "The headcount was noted in the transcript. The Wizengamot has a quorum." He glanced at some papers on a small lectern in front of him and read out, "Urgency Meeting of the Wizengamot for the priority trial of Hermione Jean Granger. Chief Judge: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic. Secretary: Percival Ignatius Weasley."

Hermione tried to hide her shiver. They were really going to stick to the trial protocol when a hearing would have been sufficient?

"Miss Granger is present and capable to testify. She is currently residing in Aylesbury, Brougham Avenue." Fudge started with her address and resumed to expose her personal information beginning at her birthdate and birthplace and went through most of the alphabet until he reached the letter W and put on record that her wand had been broken and she had no replacement yet. "The charges against the accused are:"

Hermione held her breath. However, instead of the charges, she heard a loud creak.

The door which she had entered through opened once more. Professor Dumbledore strode in. His movements were vigorous and his lips formed a thin, almost angry line. The headmaster waved his hand sharply and the iron door shut behind him with an ominous bang. He did not look startled at all.

Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her. A glance at Fudge's face told her that the headmaster's presence would definitely work in her favor.

Cornelius Fudge had lost his train of thought. He leaned sideways and looked at the transcript the wizard next to him was writing. Fudge coughed and went back to reading the parchment in front of him, "The charges are as follows: two counts of murder, one count of breaking the Statute of Secrecy and multiple violations against the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery."

Once done with his monologue Minister Fudge glared at the late arrival. Without consulting a piece of paper he asked, "What are you doing here? This is none of your business."

Dumbledore's smile never reached his eyes. "While Miss Granger is the only member of magical blood in her family and thus by our laws and regulations allowed to speak for herself, she is also still a minor. Thus she is permitted by our recorded customs and traditions to receive assistance in all matters by a witch or wizard of age. Including legal advice." The headmaster spread his arms. "Since she is my student I feel inclined to offer such assistance to her."

Fudge glared at someone left of him. A witch sat a few places away from him and rifled hectically through a dusty book. After a moment she stopped on a page and her finger pointed at a paragraph nobody but her could see. She sighed with frustration and nodded apologetically at the Minister.

"Fine." Fudge spat the word with distaste. "Mr. Weasley, you may add Adviser: Albus Du..."

The wizard in question interrupted the Minister. "Percival Wulfric Brian – if you don't mind."

Percy Weasley, in turn, looked questioningly at Fudge.

"What he said." grumbled the Minister of Magic. He stared stonily at the transcript while Percy scribbled diligently with a quill.

Fudge coughed once more and went on in his official voice, "We shall begin the trial with the charge of breaking the Statute of Secrecy." He held his hand out commandingly. A witch to his right handed him a parchment from the top of her stack. Fudge read out, "Eight muggle policemen, six muggle healers, and fifteen neighboring muggles had to be obliviated. That is a serious break of the Statute..."

Dumbledore cut in, "While you are at it, you should mention what kind of memories had to be erased." He glared at Fudge over his half-moon spectacles. Without giving the younger wizard a chance to do so he explained the circumstances himself, "The muggles had witnessed a fight. None of them saw magic being cast. But some were witnesses by ear and a lot of them saw the resulting mayhem and the two dead wizards." Dumbledore made a dramatic pause. "Wizards, who had broken into Miss Granger's home - her bedroom even - while she was sleeping. The inside of her house was completely wrecked while she fought for her life."

The most famous wizard of Britain had walked up to the ranks of the Wizengamot. He leveled his voice so it lost some of its recent sharpness while speaking directly to them, "I think, it would be convenient to start with a description of the happenings of last night. Otherwise, everything will be out of context."

It was unmistakable for Hermione that Fudge was a politician through and through. He instantly realized by the murmurs around him that everyone was intrigued by the proposal. He acted instantly, "Let us hear some facts from a neutral source then."

The hand of the Minister demanded another parchment. The witch right next to him handed something over without delay. She was a small and squat woman. Fudge glanced at the offered parchment before nodding in silent approval. "Auror Shacklebolt was the first to arrive at the scene. Let us hear him."

"Your proposition is acceptable to me," Dumbledore said like he had been asked for approval.

Fudge glared crossly at the headmaster. Just when he opened his mouth to call for the Auror, the headmaster cut him short yet again, "But, it is Miss Granger who has to accept, since she is on trial and therefore has the right to be heard first. It is her statutory right to make a confession or a statement."

Hermione was kind of impressed how Dumbledore showed Fudge up. And she realized instantly that it would be advantageous to her if she could listen to the Auror giving his report. Nevertheless, she had been waiting to say something since she first set foot into the courtroom. She was so eager, her tongue almost stumbled over the words, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, wish to make a statement: I am not guilty. I acted solely in self-defense."

Loud murmurs indicated a dissent among the ranks of the Wizengamot. Not a single word was distinguishable to Hermione. She was not sure whether it was a bad sign that some thought she could be guilty or if it was a good sign that some of them were of the opposite opinion.

Upon Fudge's order, a tall and broad-shouldered man entered the courtroom.

Dumbledore gestured for Hermione to leave the iron chair. She effectively offered her seat to the Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The wizard stopped dead in his tracks. He looked disdainfully at the iron chair. "I am not going to sit there." A certain waver in his otherwise even and very deep voice made clear that this was not negotiable.

"I am not asking you, to do so." Minister Fudge hurried to reassure the Auror.

Once Kingsley Shacklebolt had sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth he was allowed to give his report while standing a few steps away from the iron interrogation chair.

Shacklebolt started with a long-winded explanation about how they had taken the crime scene over from the Muggle authorities but he came to the point eventually, "To really understand the attack on Miss Granger's home, one has to comprehend that there were two spatially divided fights. The one on the upper and the one on the lower floor."

The Auror started his report on the lower floor. He described the damage of the various items at the crime scene and pointed out that the fight had taken place after the one on the upper floor. "The third attacker did either not want to fight together with his two companions in the cramped space of the upper hallway or he came too late to help them. Anyway, he engaged Miss Granger when she tried to leave her home."

Hermione listened in disbelief to what Kingsley thought had happened. His deep voice described the damage to the house and its interior and then strung them together in a manner that they made up an overall balanced duel, in which she had gained the upper hand and driven the intruder into the kitchen, where she had been able to overwhelm his shield and injure him with a blasting curse "aimed at the Muggle equivalent of an icebox".

The Minister interrupted Shacklebolt's report, "How do you know there was a third wizard?" Fudge asked. "For all we know, one of the wizards from the upper floor could have fought on the lower floor as well. You did not find a third corpse after all."

"We found a lot of blood in the kitchen," Kingsley explained unfazed. "And we assume that the third wizard fled."

"Or," Fudge suggested, "it was one of the two wizards we know of. One of them could have used a blood replenishing potion, while the other fought Miss Granger."

Hermione frowned. Was the Minister trying to suggest to the Auror what he should testify? If there were only two intruders, this would mean the entire case could be closed once this trial was over. A neat end to a story in the Daily Prophet.

Kingsley frowned, "Excuse me, I've not been clear enough. We found a lot of blood. A blood replenishing potion would have changed nothing. Nobody bleeding like that would resume fighting."

The Minister remained unwilling to let go of his idea, "He could have healed himself or at least staunch the bleeding."

Hermione's eyes grew wide when Kingsley said, "That is possible."

The Minister was already smiling contentedly when the Auror went on, "But he still fled from the crime scene. We did not find any traces of freshly healed wounds on the two deceased wizards on the upper floor."

Fudge scowled but he gave up.

Surprisingly Dumbledore did not, "There is a potion to check blood for kinship. It can be used to determine whether two blood samples are from the same person as well. Have you considered using it?"

"We would need more time to warrant such a thorough investigation. There is only so much we can do on such short notice." Shacklebolt came very close to complaining but he did not outright do so.

However, he had given Dumbledore enough incentive to act, "I request that this hearing is postponed until the potion has been brewed and the blood samples have been checked for the Minister's theory."

The Wizengamot murmured indecisively about the proposal.

Fudge swished his wand to produce the gavel sound. "That won't be necessary. Auror Shacklebolt has explained quite convincingly that there were three wizards."

"I think," Dumbledore explained firmly, "it is in everyone's best interest to evaluate all evidence thoroughly and use all means to unveil the truth. I request this trial be rescheduled until all means to find the truth have been exhausted!"

Hermione heard the murmur of the Wizengamot grow louder but it once more remained unintelligible. Fudge looked the ranks over. He was visibly hesitating. Dumbledore made a reasonable request and numerous members of the Wizengamot were obviously considering it.

In Hermione's eyes an adjournment would be a positive development – no matter whether this was a trial or a questioning. She would definitely feel better if she could learn about the procedures of the Wizengamot in advance and not while being subjected to them.

The Minister clearly wanted to proceed, but he needed at least a reason to decline the request. The squat witch next to him seemed willing to offer him one. She leaned forward and whispered urgently into his ear. A thick book was held in front of his face. A short finger of her pointed at something. Fudge read hurriedly.

The Minister recreated the sound of the banging gavel. Once he had regained everyone's attention, he spoke, "We will proceed. This is an Urgency Meeting of the Wizengamot investigating a break of the Statute of Secrecy. And whenever the Statute of Secrecy is involved the Wizengamot has the right to be presented any information at any time."

There was still a bit of grumbling. Most of the Wizengamot was willing to accept this course.

The Minister smiled down at Dumbledore from his elevated seat, "The Aurors worked overtime and they have done an excellent job. I have complete trust in their prowess." He turned his head slightly to demonstrate that Dumbledore was dismissed, "You may continue your report, Senior Auror Shacklebolt."

Hermione frowned. Had Fudge just promoted the Auror?

On the analysis of the upper floor, the Auror displayed what was magically possible if there were wands to cast a Priori Incantatem on. Shacklebolt's report matched the actual happenings uncannily. He had correctly concluded that she had only stunned the wizard, who had been found dead in her room. He had reconstructed that his comrade had killed him by accident.

"The dead wizard in Miss Granger's bedroom was named Sloane Thewes. Those who knew him called him Cook because he once tipped a pot of boiling water over a witch." Shacklebolt added a short summary of his criminal record. It revolved mostly around violence.

Shacklebolt pieced all spells and the damage on her home correctly together. With only one exception, the Auror never mentioned Hermione's parents. Hermione felt her heart hammer harder with every correct guess. She nearly failed to hide her sigh of relief when he finally announced, "The wizard in the hallway was taken out by a Reductor Curse to the head."

"But that's not all we found out thanks to the wand of the decapitated wizard." Hermione thought, that his calm words did the bloody mess no justice. "The Priori Incantatem showed us the fighting spells like the Blasting Curses and the Incarcerus Spell were preceded by an Alohomora Charm, which was most likely used to open the front door. The last spell the Priori Incantatem showed us was a Magical Signature Dampening Incantation to disable the Trace from reporting to the Ministry."

"Excuse me," Dumbledore interrupted the Auror. "Which Incantation are we talking about specifically?"

For a moment Fudge looked like he wanted to tell Dumbledore off for interrupting the report but while Hermione could not understand the Wizengamot she could easily identify that they wanted an answer to that question as well. So Fudge nodded reluctantly at the Auror.

"It was an incantation we have not seen for a decade," Kingsley answered in a grave tone. "The spell favored by the Death Eaters: Admonitus Inutilis Abolesco."

There were gasps. Fudge blanched.

"Which is no surprise since we found the Dark Mark on the lower left arm of the wizard in the hallway."

A commotion broke loose upon that revelation. Fudge's facial expression changed from pleased to shocked.

Shacklebolt went on reporting like he did not notice. "We will have to do more investigations into the matter. For example, having the wand identified by Ollivander and we can try to test his blood but I think it is already safe at this stage of the investigation to say that we have found Peter Pettigrew."

The Minister's wand produced hammering sounds to silence everyone while he screamed over the crowd, "Whomever you found, he can't be Peter Pettigrew! Peter Pettigrew was killed fourteen years ago by Sirius Black!"

Despite the ruckus, Dumbledore's voice could be heard and understood easily, "Harry Potter told you personally that Peter Pettigrew is alive. He did so not only once but twice! He saw him one year ago. And he saw him a few weeks ago on the day of the Third Task when he was abducted by the Portkey!"

"Nonsense! Hearsay!" Fudge gestured wildly with his wand. "Harry Potter is not part of this trial. We are here because of Miss Granger."

"Hermione Granger is Harry Potter's girlfriend! You've seen her at his sick bed at the end of the term. How can you think this is not about him? A blind wizard can see that she was attacked by Death Eaters because of him."

Fudge screamed "Silence!" at the top of his lungs. And for once everyone fell silent without the sound of the weird spell. "There is no proof of Death Eaters!"

"The Dark Mark branded into the flesh of a wizard has been found. Cornelius, be reasonable!"

"Enough!" The Minister barked. "Whatever happened or not happened to Harry Potter is of no importance to this trial. If you use this gathering one more time to promote your unproven horror story, you will be dismissed from this meeting and Miss Granger will have to find herself another adviser."

Hermione watched Dumbledore's face while he tried to come to a conclusion. The headmaster huffed but remained quiet.

For some reason, a wizard in a black robe rose from his seat. He said something. Hermione could clearly hear the sound of his voice but she was unable to understand a single word he said.

Fudge was visibly conflicted if he should allow him to speak up. Finally, he told Percy, "Mr. Diggory is allowed to make a short personal statement." He turned around and told the wizard, "No more than three lines, Amos."

"Thank you, Minister Fudge. I really appreciate this..."

Fudge's wand made the wooden-hammer noise, "Keep it short."

"Sorry." The wizard named Amos bowed in a way that screamed bootlicker at Hermione.

He proclaimed in a complacent tone, "I just wanted to remind everyone that my son - Cedric Diggory, who came up second in the Triwizard Tournament - has made an official statement. He sent a nonverbal Confundus Charm at Harry Potter. And he hit him right before he grabbed the Triwizard Cup. As Cedric's father it is my obligation to tell you all that Harry Potter does not know what actually happened back then. The boy has delusions."

"Thank you, Amos."

"Thank you, Minister." Mr. Diggory sat down.

"While it is honorable that Amos accepts the responsibility of reminding us of the facts printed in the Daily Prophet, this is still hearsay." Fudge looked at Percy, "Mr. Weasley, the statements of Mr. Diggory and Mr. Dumbledore are to be struck from the record."

Percy nodded, "Yes, Sir."

A fake-cough could be heard, "Hem-Hem." Hermione noticed various people cringe when her eyes roamed the rows of wizards and witches to find its source. It turned out to be the witch right next to Fudge, who had diligently handed him one paper after the other.

The Minister looked at her, "What is it, Dolores?"

She smiled sweetly. "I've got a small question for Auror Shacklebolt regarding his investigation."

Fudge nodded at her. "Dolores Jane Umbridge is allowed to speak."

The small witch next to the Minister stood up. It made barely a difference. "Auror Shacklebolt, how was a such a young witch able to kill two grown wizards? She has not even sat her O.W.L.s yet!"

Shacklebolt shrugged his shoulders. "Basic spells for cutting and blasting. A proper shield could have easily blocked those."

"Cutting and blasting!" Umbridge asked in a girlish tone that was probably supposed to express dismay, "Spells capable of killing and maiming are taught at Hogwarts to minors? I find it a bit disheartening that our precious children are trained to murder."

"These spells are neither designed for killing nore maiming." Dumbledore corrected the witch sourly.

The witch rebuffed him waspishly, "Nonetheless, they did exactly that."

"Those spells have been part of the curriculum for decades," Dumbledore answered calmly. "I know for sure that they were also taught to you."

"I was not taught how to subdue three wizards at once. And I would not have wanted to be taught to do so!" The Undersecretary sneered at Dumbledore.

The headmaster smiled mildly, "I think, what was taught at Hogwarts in the past or is taught at the present is of no interest to this session of the Wizengamot. The curriculum is the teachers' and the school governors' responsibility. Miss Granger has used spells taught at Hogwarts to defend herself and her family from three Death Eaters."

Hectic banging of Minister Fudge's wand finished Dolores Umbridge's questioning, "There is no proof of a Death Eater attack. We had no Death Eater attacks for a decade..."

"What about the incident at the World Cup?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

Fudge responded tersely, "Some drunk good-for-nothings! Nobody was hurt!"

"Cornelius, the signs of Voldemort's return can be found everywhere."

Fudge and a lot of other wizards and witches shuddered but by far not all of them. "There are no signs!"

Once more a fake cough was to be heard, "Hem-Hem."

Fudge looked at the witch at his side. Nobody had noticed that she had not sat down.

Umbridge spoke sweetly, "Minister might I suggest that we leave this detour behind and return to the actual matter at hand? The trial."

"Very well!" The Minister barked. "Let's get to the interrogation of Harry Potter's girlfriend."

This time Hermione ground her teeth to keep her lips sealed. Why hadn't they just called it the trial of Harry Potter's girlfriend from the start? It would have been consistent to not care about her identity since in her eyes important things - like the question whether she had acted in the borders of the law - were at best of subsidiary importance! The real question of this trial seemed to be whether you wanted to believe that Voldemort had returned.

"Hem-Hem." Umbridge could be heard once more. "Mr. Weasley, please cross out the tangent from the transcript."

Percy looked at the Minister for a confirmation. He nodded. Next, the Minister said, "Get the Veritaserum."

Hermione felt a shiver run up her spine. Nobody had said anything about Veritaserum! She could not ingest the Truth Potion. She would inevitably reveal that she had cast the Killing Curse. And if that came out it would not matter whether she had defended her family. The use of Unforgivable Curses meant Azkaban!

She turned to Dumbledore, "Sir, I really don't want to use Veritaserum! It's known to have negative repercussions on the mind."

The old wizard smiled softly at her and spoke in a well-meaning grandfatherly tone, "Veritaserum is a very controversial potion. Being forced to bare one's self without conditions can be a decisive turning point. But you've got a strong character. You'll get over it. And I promise I'll do my utmost to keep the questions aimed at the happenings of last night."

"I don't want to take the potion." Hermione insisted. "Please, don't force me to!"

"I can understand that you don't want to take Veritaserum," Dumbledore said apologetically, "but I think under these circumstances it is the best way to prove your innocence."

"I don't have to prove my innocence!" Hermione hissed irritably, "My guilt has to be proven!"

The headmaster chuckled. "Yes, that's true. Alas, under these circumstances we have no choice."

"What if I refuse to give evidence?"

"That's what Veritaserum is for." Dumbledore said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Sir, can't you think of a way that will save me from ingesting Veritaserum?"

Dumbledore looked long and hard at Hermione. She knew he was not trying to read her mind. "No, I can't."

Hermione drew a hissing breath. Once more it was up to her. No help from anyone. If she wanted to leave this courtroom as a free witch, she had to come up with a plan of her own. She had to talk herself out of this mess. And she knew whom she would have to talk to. There was only one person who held the power to change the outcome of this trial.

The question was what could she offer him? If she was not subdued by Veritaserum, she could lie. And that was not only what she needed to do, that was also what she could offer! She could lie in favor of Fudge.

"Take your seat, Miss Granger." His wand gestured casually at the iron chair.

Hermione, in turn, allowed a bit of her insecurity – because she was not frightened – to shine through. She said in a voice that made her sound younger than she was, "I don't want to sit there either, Sir."

Most members of the Wizengamot showed no sympathy for her. Fudge represented their sentiment perfectly when he ordered, "Sit down!"

Hermione thought bitterly that she should have trained acting meekly in front of a mirror. She needed to have a private conversation with Fudge. She looked at Dumbledore, maybe there was some rule that allowed her to talk to the Chief Judge?

Standing in front of the iron chair, Hermione asked, "Am I allowed to request any wizard to be my Adviser?"

Nobody had expected that question. Fudge was as baffled as Dumbledore and most of the Wizengamot.

Umbridge reacted first. Her high voice was laden with sick sweetness, "Yes, of course you are, my dear." If her face was any indication of her feelings, she was delighted by the prospect of getting rid of Dumbledore. "Whom would you like to be your legal assistant? We can call for him. Maybe the Minister would even be willing to pause the session." She looked questioningly at the wizard right next to her.

Fudge shrugged non-committally.

"I would like to have a word with the Minister," Hermione said resolutely.

The older witch's face fell and she instantly lost all her faked sweetness. The high pitched tone remained behind, "Don't be silly! The Minister can't be your Adviser. He is the Chief Judge. Even if he would want to advise you, there are regulations prohibiting him from doing so."

"Please Minister Fudge. Just a minute!" Hermione hated to plead. "What I've got to tell you, might add a new angle to this investigation. However, I'm not sure if it's worth the time and attention of the Wizengamot." She rushed to explain before her request could be discarded, "That's where you personal insight could be helpful. If there is one wizard to understand this esteemed congregation, it is you!" She hated even more that this was a real plea. However, this was about her freedom. If she had to plea for it, that's what she would do.

Fudge looked in a calculating manner at her. Finally, he lifted one finger, "One minute." Directed at the Wizengamot he added, "Please excuse us. I think I should really offer my guidance to this young witch. The capabilities of her current Adviser are obviously quite lacking. Maybe I can point her at someone else. Mr. Weasley will call for some refreshments!"

They went to the small antechamber. Fudge gestured for the witch to enter first. The guard had already left.

A swish of Fudge's wand closed the door behind them.

Hermione stared for a long moment at the Minister, "Don't you want to cast anti-eavesdropping charms?"

"The courtroom and this chamber are more than sufficiently warded against eavesdropping." Fudge levitated one bench of the wall and sat down. He gestured for Hermione to sit opposite of him. "We don't have a lot of time. I guess you have a proposal for me?"

Hermione sat down. Once more she had to bend forward. She also had to crane her neck to look at the wizard. "Yes, I do. There were three wizards in my home, but if I don't have to take Veritaserum, I'll claim there were only two."

"That's an interesting offer." Fudge said, "Sadly, at this point it's worthless. Potions will prove that the blood originates from a third person." He shrugged.

Hermione's eyes became wide. She could have thought of that! Why had she not done so?

"Do you have anything else to offer?" Fudge asked disinterestedly.

"I've got about six hundred Galleons," Hermione said hopefully.

"That's not nearly enough." Fudge looked dismissively at her. "Maybe you found a rare artifact at Hogwarts? Anything that could be useful for a politician?"

Hermione hung her head. She knew a lot of spells and charms. She could brew potions perfectly. She could cast magic no other student was capable of. She glanced through her lashes at the pocket Fudge had stowed his wand in. Maybe she could escape if she took him hostage?

She would have to try! There was nothing she could offer to a politician…

A thought as cold and clear as ice formed in her mind. There was something she could offer a politician. Something Fudge could not get any other way. Her boyfriend was the boy-who-lived!

"If I make Harry say that he did not see Voldemort in that graveyard, will you let me off the hook?" Hermione heard the waver in her voice and she hated it!

"Nobody would believe Potter anyway." Fudge tried to sound indifferent but there was something in his pronunciation that gave him away.

"How do you know? So far Harry has said nothing."

"His credibility is ruined, thanks to the articles in the Daily Prophet. Everyone knows that he is just a little troublemaker." Fudge tried to sound confident. "And Diggory's boy has said he hit Potter with a Confundus Charm. Who would believe someone that has been magically confused?"

"I know about your campaign. You're trying to slander Harry's and Dumbledore's name." Hermione acknowledged. "However, Harry is still The-Boy-Who-Lived and he won the Triwizard Tournament. He overcame a dragon in a very spectacular way. And then there is Dumbledore, who beat Grindelwald and stalled Voldemort for years. Those are the two most famous wizards in Britain's recent history. And while public opinion swings fast and easily both of them still carry influence."

Fudge twitched.

"I am offering you an option to play them against each other. The question if Voldemort" Fudge shuddered at the mention of the name. "has returned will vanish once Harry says, that he did not see..." Hermione hesitated minimally. "You-Know-Who in that graveyard. And when Dumbledore loses the only witness to You-Know-Who's return, the whole matter will collapse like a house of cards."

"Dumbledore is persistent." Fudge said. "He will not draw in his claws just like that."

"So what? You would only have to slander his name, making that twice as effective once Harry is out of the way. Even more so when Harry has already contradicted Dumbledore publicly."

Fudge scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Will Potter really deny... what he said?"

"How could he not?" Hermione countered. "He would be sending me to Azkaban otherwise."

Fudge weighed his options silently. For a long time, Hermione watched his head lean in one direction and in the other afterward. When he had made up his mind he said, "We will have the Daily Prophet print the story. I can arrange an exclusive interview tomorrow morning."

"Harry will say that he did not recognize anyone in that graveyard." Hermione explained, "Everything else will be as he experienced it. A truth with twisted details makes the best lie."

Fudge declined instantly, "No. I don't want him to repeat his delusions that a dozen Dark Wizards are on the run! Potter has seen Pettigrew, the other dead wizard and the one that got away." And then Fudge said something that really surprised Hermione, "Harry will say that Karkaroff was the head of the conspiracy! We can then find out that it was him who manipulated the Triwizard Cup. Given that he is on the run, that's what we'll find out soon anyway."

"I want the headlines clear." Fudge said grumpily, "No more speculations about Dark Wizards. Karkaroff, Pettigrew and those two no-names conspired to kill Potter. We can tell everyone that they wanted to avenge their former master. They smuggled Potter's name into the tournament in hopes of killing him. When he survived the tasks, they resolved to kill him themselves. They failed. They tried to take you hostage to lure Potter to them. They failed again. That is the story."

Hermione nodded, "I understand."

"Wonderful." Fudge folded his fingers. "I will postpone the meeting to tomorrow afternoon under the pretense that you gave me new information. If Potter agrees, I want to see the both of you tomorrow morning in my office. We will have that exclusive interview with the Daily Prophet at 10 o'clock. I want you to be there early. I will tell the story and you two will say: Yes, Sir! Once the story is on the way to the printing press all charges against you will be dropped."

Hermione nodded eagerly.

"If you can't persuade Potter, I'll make sure you're sentenced to Azkaban. Do you understand?"

The words tasted bitter but Hermione said what would seal the deal nonetheless, "Yes, Sir."

Fudge smirked, "You are indeed a clever witch." Suddenly an inspiration struck him and he whispered awed with himself, "I could even declare Black to be innocent! Pettigrew is... I mean, was not dead. That way the only Dark Wizard on the run would be Karkaroff!"

* * *

A/N: Yet again a big 'Thanks!' to gahmeep for improving the text diligently. The smallest accomplishment she is responsible for is an almost correct Latin spell. I'd also like to thank Starfox5 for his expertise on details. And yet again FunCube tricked me into sending him the chapter early to check it for ... I really don't know.


	23. Emma's Persuasion

Emma's Persuasion

* * *

Emma Granger watched her daughter throw a handful of powder into the hearth where green flames flared up. They filled the entire fireplace. It took all of her willpower to not stop Hermione from stepping into the fire.

Without batting an eye her daughter said, "Ministry of Magic" She made a single step forward and was swallowed by the flames without leaving a trace of her existence behind. Magic could be very scary!

Emma forced herself to breathe evenly. She told herself that everything was going to be alright, Hermione had done no wrong and the trial would just dissolve into nothing. She focused on the thought of hugging her only child once she had returned. For now, all she had to do was wait, everything would turn out alright. She could do this. She had managed to live through bad days before. She sort of had a history of bad luck. Alas, the last twenty-four hours set a new record...

What she and her small family had been forced through was nasty but the worst part in Emma's eyes had been her impotence. She hated losing control! She had had enough. It was about time she solved at least one mystery. She turned to the green-eyed boy who stared longingly into the flames of the fireplace, "Harry, I'd like to talk to you."

Harry twitched a little but said in an obedient tone, "Sure, Mrs. Granger."

The young wizard allowed her to lead him into the guest room which she shared with her husband and daughter. It was still a mess. There were blankets on the couch and the double bed was in disarray. She noticed Harry's eyes fixed on the couch. Emma quickly checked that there was nothing to look at. And indeed there was no underwear and no skimpy nightgown. Men! Emma bundled the blankets up and put them unceremoniously onto the bed.

Harry waited for her to take her seat on the armchair before he sat down on the couch.

Her bum had barely touched the cushion when Harry started apologizing, "I'm really sorry for what has happened to you and your family! I honestly don't know how that came about. I wish there was anything I could do! But I don't know what... It's... I never expected something like that to happen." His voice faded away.

It was easy to see that he felt really sorry. "Thank you, Harry. I accept your apology."

"You do?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, I do." Emma inclined her head. "Although you can't be held responsible for the things which happened last night. I doubt you're at fault for any of them. However, I accept your apology."

Harry was baffled, "But... but... huh?"

"You wonder why - or better yet for what - I accepted your apology?" Emma helped Harry out.

The young wizard nodded confusedly, "Yes."

"For not telling me the entire truth." Emma gave Harry an encouraging half smile.

Harry's green eyes became as round as saucers and his face paled until it was almost white. "Um..."

"You and Hermione lied by omission." Emma said civilly but pointed out, "I'm sure you two reassured each other that skipping some facts was not really lying."

Harry was so nervous Emma almost pitied him. "I've already talked to Hermione. And she told me a part of the truth. I'll give you the same chance as well. So... Tell me the remaining part of the story."

"Um, okay." Harry gazed broodily at his lap.

Emma could have waited for him to start on his own but she was running on low patience right now. Harry took too much time to start for her taste. "Harry, how is your custody arranged?"

"My custody?" The teen-wizard looked at Emma like she had grown a second head.

"Yes, your custody," Emma replied sharply. Harry squirmed under her glare. "You were at the Dursleys for round about the first half of the holidays. How is the shared custody with your godfather arranged?"

Owlishly blinking, he answered, "I'm living with the Dursleys."

"Okay, so the Dursleys have custody of you." Emma huffed. She had never expected to ever run into this kind of problem with Hermione. Although, she had never expected her to be a witch either. Still, Harry's manner of answering irritated her. And if he wanted to play dumb she would up the ante!

"You're not doing yourself a favor young man." Emma said angrily, "I couldn't reach your aunt and uncle on the phone yesterday. So, here is what I think: You've told them that you would spend a few days with us and that we would then bring you over to your godfather. This was probably convenient for them because they were planning to have a holiday that interfered with said arrangement, which in turn kept me from phoning them yesterday."

Emma noted in satisfaction that Harry's eyes became wide. Just a little bit more pressure would make him crack and confess! "Meanwhile, you told your godfather that you'd stay for the summer at the Dursleys and be over at his place for Christmas or Easter or something like that. But your plan backfired. Your aunt and uncle got in contact with your godfather and thus your trick got unveiled. Usually, they never talk to each other, am I right? They dislike each other for some reason!"

Her theory was right - Emma could see it on Harry's face! "Harry, I'll get to the bottom of this anyway. I'm giving you a chance here. A chance to tell me the truth. I'll talk to your godfather. And I will eventually talk to your aunt and uncle. And if I can't call them, I'll drive over to their house. I mean, I have to apologize for the mess you and Hermione hatched. I would have asked Hermione to come forth with the entire truth today but with everything that happened last night that's off the table for her. So it's up to you to mend some of the damage you've done to my trust in you."

Harry just gawked at her.

"Say something!" Emma demanded.

The teen snapped out of his stupor. "That..." Harry stared with big eyes at her. "That sounds... um... logical... but you kinda got that all wrong." Harry's voice was thin and he tried to smile at her. "You see, Sirius has no custody over me. And there is no agreement at all between him and the Dursleys. And I really don't know why you could not reach them on the phone."

Before Emma could stop herself she had huffed disbelievingly.

"I mean, the Dursleys would never speak to a wizard. They despise everything magical!" Harry hurried to explain. "And Sirius escaped from Azkaban. He can't act as my godfather. Please ask him, that's the truth. I swear."

"I will ask him," Emma said in a threatening tone. To her immense surprise, Harry did not panic. On the contrary, his face relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Emma felt more than a small flicker of doubt. Had she gotten this all wrong? "Azkaban is the magical prison."

Harry nodded.

"For what was your godfather convicted?"

"Sirius was framed for murder."

Emma took a hissing breath, she had expected something in the lines of doing magic in front of non-magical people. "Framed?"

And then Harry filled her in on all the details of the night of Voldemort's fall that had never made it into the books they had bought for Hermione after McGonagall's visit. It was a heartbreaking story of betrayal and murder that left Harry as an orphan and with a scar on his forehead. But despite common belief, he and his parents were not the only victims of that night.

"I'm sorry Harry." Emma tried to collect her thoughts. She added apologetically, "I still have to speak to your godfather."

When Emma escorted Harry out of the room she was a bit surprised to see her husband and Mr. Black talking just a few steps down the floor. They stopped whispering as soon as they saw her. She cocked an eyebrow at her husband who in turn glanced weirdly at the tall wizard next to him and gave her a half-shrug. She wondered what that was supposed to mean? Usually, she was pretty good at guessing what her husband thought, "Mr. Black. Can you spare me a moment?"

"I actually want to talk to you too!" Mr. Black exclaimed flamboyantly. His grin was so wide, she could see most of his molars. Emma became really curious about what he and her husband had been talking about.

Emma found out that every detail of Harry's story was true. She learned that Mr. Black never had been granted a trial and had spent more than a decade at Azkaban. He gave a very brief description of the place. It was enough to make Emma shudder in revulsion.

What followed was rather confusing. Mr. Black had already tried to talk Dan into accepting money from him. Their host's first offer was more than she expected. When Emma pointed out the danger and overall … inconvenience they had been through, Mr. Black raised the sum three times. And he was not only doing this without batting an eye, he was eager to enlarge the sum for any reason he was given.

She understood why Dan had not been willing to accept Mr. Black's offer on his own. It was almost like he tried to trick them. Before accepting anything, Emma would definitely ask Hermione if the magical world had special indemnity regulations!

* * *

When the afternoon turned into the evening, they were still waiting. All residents of Grimmauld Place gathered in the drawing room. The only exception was Molly Weasley. She was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

A flare of green flames broke the silent brooding. All heads in the room turned in the same direction. Two figures stepped out of the fireplace. The taller one was Arthur Weasley. The smaller one was a witch with bushy hair, clothed in a borrowed school uniform.

Harry was the first to find his voice, "Hermione!"

Emma stepped past him and hugged her daughter. She instantly felt the stiffness. "What's wrong?"

Hermione whispered to her, "I need you to make Harry agree." Louder she said, "We need to talk."

Emma felt her stomach lurch. "What do you mean?"

"I got a postponement."

"Perfect!" exclaimed Dan. "We'll hire a professional and we'll..."

Hermione cut him short, "Until tomorrow morning." She added, "That's why I need to talk to Harry."

There was no real need to turn around and take a look. Emma knew that the young wizard stood right behind her and heard everything. She stepped aside.

Fred, George, and Ginny were still dancing in a circle and happily singing, "She got off, she got off!"

Harry's face was caught between hope and fear. "What do you need me to do?"

"I..." Hermione checked the room. "Let's talk in private."

Hermione took Harry's hand into her own and pulled him away.

Emma followed her daughter and Dan did not wait for an invitation. Hermione led them to their guest room. Emma nodded at her husband when he held the door open for her. Mr. Black slipped in as well. When Mr. Lupin accompanied him, her husband cocked a questioning eyebrow at Emma. She shrugged her shoulders. What was going on between the two men was none of their business.

Hermione placed Harry on the armchair and took a seat on the couch. Emma and her husband sat left and right next to her. Remus took the remaining armchair while Sirius sat nervously on the edge of a stool.

"So, how did it go?" Harry asked warily.

Emma held her daughter's hand while she described her past few hours. She told them how she had handed over the pieces of her wand. The Auror had kept them as evidence. Then a long period of waiting had started. Hermione had been put into a small chamber, where she had to sit bent over – she demonstrated how deep.

The trial had not been a hearing. Hermione retold the charges verbatim, gave a summary of the squabbling between Fudge and Dumbledore and explained what the Aurors had found out.

"Peter is dead?" Mr. Black jumped from his stool. "The rat is dead?" He laughed maniacally, "That's wonderful!" He made a few steps which looked like an odd dance. And then all of a sudden he stood there completely motionless, staring at a point at the wall. His hands were balled into fists when he hissed, "Finally, the traitor is dead!"

In turn, they all stared at the tall wizard. It was a weird situation. He just stood there for a full minute. He did not even twitch.

Mr. Lupin reacted way more subdued. Nonetheless, Emma spotted a wide selection of emotions whisk over his face. He asked emphatically, "Sirius?"

The other wizard turned his head at the sound. His facial expression remained frozen. His voice sounded hollow. "Yeah?"

"Maybe you'd like to sit down again?"

Mr. Black took in the other people in the room. He seemed to be very confused. "Yeah, sure."

Once the focus was back on her, Hermione finished her summary of the trial. Emma thought the situation wasn't so bad.

Mr. Lupin voiced her thoughts, "That's good. Nothing unexpected came up. Shacklebolt found out what actually happened and nobody doubted him."

"Besides that witch who thinks all students are trained to be murderers at school," Emma added scathingly.

"I think," Dan mused, "Dumbledore should stop proclaiming a Death Eater attack. He should focus on the self-defense aspect."

"If this attack gets classified as a Death Eater raid, the trial will get discontinued." Mr. Lupin disagreed. "Nobody could deny that Hermione had the right to use lethal measures against Death Eaters."

"And how does one prove that this was a Death Eater attack?" Dan requested.

"It's obvious," The former Hogwarts professor shrugged his shoulders, "They found the Dark Mark on Peter's arm."

"The other wizard had no tattoo. If the Wizengamot thought that was enough proof, we wouldn't be sitting here." Dan said. "Mr. Shagglebolt has almost shown that Hermione solely acted in self-defense. That's the route Dumbledore should follow."

"Albus Dumbledore knows what to do. If he thinks that the best course of action is the Death Eater raid then that's decided." Mr. Lupin folded his arms defensively in front of his chest. "Everything will be sorted out eventually."

"I don't see how you can trust that everything will turn out alright! Dumbledore is only one man. And he is not the Minister but just the Headmaster of Hogwarts." Dan snapped in a surprising manner. "You act like everything always goes fine. But if that were the case we wouldn't be sitting right here right now! This trial should never have happened in the first place!"

Hermione's youthful voice cut the argument short, "I agree with my father. I had the distinct impression that the Wizengamot was not willing to see the attack on our home as a Death Eater raid. Dumbledore was pursuing the wrong course. That's why I requested to have a one-to-one with Fudge."

Hermione retold her conversation with Fudge in great detail. Emma was speechless when her daughter described how she had haggled for her freedom and what deal she was able to negotiate in the end. It spoke volumes of Emma's low esteem of the Magical World that she was instantly willing to believe the Minister of Magic had admitted he would bend the law.

Emma glanced at Harry. His face had become completely pale and he was obviously shocked. Making him revoke his statement about Voldemort's return and instead lie to the entire country was a tough burden.

That's what Hermione wanted her to do. She wanted her to make sure Harry would lie for her. Emma could have cursed herself! Why did she have to confront him and reprimand him that lying was a bad thing only hours ago?

"He's basically got nothing." Mr. Lupin was once more the first to voice his thoughts, "Fudge knows that Hermione will not be punished. That's the only reason he offered this deal. He has nothing to lose."

"Do you think so?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of our time!" Mr. Lupin said confidently. "He's got this."

Her daughter squeezed her hand then and Emma understood that she was meant to intervene, "I disagree. In... two points." she said sharply. "The outcome of this so-called trial is open until the verdict is spoken. And the reason this offer was made is not the low chance of success but the opportunity. The Minister would greatly profit from Harry speaking in his favor."

Mr. Lupin sighed in an unnerved manner. "I understand your doubts. But Dumbledore has lead Magical Britain for more than forty years. He beat Grindelwald and he was the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. We can trust him. He will do the right thing. He only has Hermione's best interest in mind. He will..."

Emma interrupted the wizard, "How do you know?"

Her question was as simple as it was unexpected. Mr. Lupin looked weirdly at her, "What... What do you mean by that?"

Emma tried to hide how pleased she was with herself. Her voice sounded almost curious when she asked, "Has Dumbledore told you that he only has Hermione's best interest in mind?"

"No, but..." Mr. Lupin stood no chance of finishing his point.

"Has he shared any of his thoughts on the matter of Hermione's trial with you?" Emma asked tersely.

"No, he has not." Mr. Lupin explained full of trust, "But Dumbledore will do anything he can for Hermione."

Dan huffed disbelievingly, "Anything?"

Hook, line, and sinker thought Emma. She did not smirk but she added a challenging tone to her voice, "Will Dumbledore do anything you tell him to?"

Mr. Lupin shook his head, "I'm in no position to tell him what to do."

"Dan would do anything for our daughter. And so would I." Emma said tensely. "Nothing matters in comparison to her well being. We would throw ourselves in front of a moving vehicle for our daughter. That is doing anything!"

Emma glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye. He understood very well. Meanwhile, the two wizards needed to puzzle out her statement.

"I have no doubt that Hermione is more important to you than she is to Dumbledore. Nothing is bigger than the love of parents for their child." Mr. Lupin acknowledged. "However, this is not a question of sacrificing oneself. This is a question of ability. And I believe Dumbledore can handle this. He has decades of experience in the Wizengamot."

"I doubt that my daughter is his overall top priority." Emma said coolly, "He was more interested in advertising the return of that evil sorcerer you don't want to name."

"Dumbledore is not trying to further his campaign on convincing the public that You-Know-Who has returned at the expense of Hermione's case." Mr. Lupin snapped irritated, "It is essential. This was an actual Death Eater raid. Once the Wizengamot has accepted this fact, dropping all charges is but a formality."

"He is taking a detour to defend her," Dan said once more. "He should have just shown that she has done nothing wrong instead of trying to use her trial to convince people of something they obviously want to ignore."

Mr. Lupin argued him, "The public needs to know!"

For once Dan lost his legendary even temper, "It should be our choice, in which way Hermione is defended! She is our daughter first!"

"Dumbledore knows what he's doing!" Mr. Lupin snapped.

"Yes, he knows." Emma stretched the statement unnaturally long. "But do you?"

"Your arguments are turning in circles."

With a smirk, Emma added a new point, "Where is Dumbledore right now? Why has he not talked to Hermione? Why is he doing nothing to prepare Hermione for tomorrow?"

Mr. Lupin hesitated for the shortest moment, "Dumbledore was there when he was needed the most. He was at the trial."

Dan grumbled, "He was there when it was convenient for him."

"Dumbledore is a very busy wizard. I'm sure he is preparing something for tomorrow right now!"

Emma thought it was about time to include Mr. Black a bit more into this discussion, "I see... Hermione is not your daughter. You are willing to take the chance that she goes to Azkaban." Mr. Lupin jumped off the couch. Emma rushed to say, "Let me finish! If – and I say if and not when – Hermione is sentenced to spending one year or ten or the rest of her life in that magical nightmare fortress of yours what do you think that will do to her?"

"That won't happen, all we have to do it trust in Dumbledore."

"No." Mr. Black said hoarsely.

Mr. Lupin was the most surprised. Dan came second. Emma had a hard time hiding her smile.

"Hermione already has an option that guarantees her freedom." Mr. Black looked straight at Harry. His gaze was haunted. "Take no chances when it comes to Azkaban! It is the worst place on earth." Mr. Black's breath was shallow and fast. His eyes unseeing. He whispered, "I was there." Suddenly, he barked, "I was innocent!" More than one of them flinched. He stared Harry straight in the eyes, "Don't take the chance! You have to do everything to stay away from there. Run, lie, bribe, whatever!"

"Sirius, your case was different." Mr. Lupin added sorrowfully, "You had no trial at all..."

"Dumbledore was Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot." Mr. Black whispered forlornly. "All he had to do was call for a trial. He did not care enough."

"We didn't know! We were all wrong." Mr. Lupin lamented.

"And how is he supposed to know that Hermione is innocent? Has even asked her?" Mr. Black asked manically.

He went on, "You should do it, Harry. I think there is a real chance Hermione could be sent to Azkaban. And we can't allow that to happen."

"She will not be sent to Azkaban. She is innocent. The charges are ridiculous!" Lupin whined.

"I was sent to Azkaban innocently." Mr. Black roared. "And I would still be there if I had not escaped on my own. Even if the chance that Hermione will be sent to Azkaban is very, very slim, you should not take it."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for your efforts, gahmeep!


	24. Her New Wand

Her New Wand

* * *

The Ministry was almost empty. They met nobody in the hallways or in the elevator and reached the top floor minutes before the agreed upon time. The door to the Minister's office was open. Fudge requested them amicably to step in. He introduced them to a distinguished wizard and asked them to sit on his couch.

The elderly wizard was the one and only representative of the Daily Prophet. He took a few photos and operated the quill which scribbled down their interview. The actual interview was basically a monologue by the Minister. He told the agreed upon story. Hermione and Harry chimed in at the appropriate points and confirmed what Fudge said in short sentences without offering any additional details.

Hermione knew that Harry was anything but happy about lying but he was determined to get it done. Fudge somehow sensed her boyfriend's reluctance and tried to make the whole affair as easy for Harry as possible.

The thing which impressed Hermione was how proficient Fudge was at spinning stories and how tight he wove them. He explained that it had been the Aurors good work at identifying Peter Pettigrew and Hermione's testimony which had made him realize the truth.

And at this point he became devious. Fudge repeated his smear campaign against Harry. The interviewing wizard nodded while once more noting down how Cedric Diggory had hit Harry with a nonverbal Confundus Charm at the end of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Fudge integrated the false testimony in such a manner into the new story that it reinforced it. Thus his old ammunition would still be available to him if Harry dared to revoke his statement.

Fudge spread his hands apologetically, "At the end of the day it was really nobody's fault. Harry stated what he believed to be the truth. Dumbledore acted in a way he deemed necessary." The Minister shrugged his shoulders, "Now that we've solved this riddle, it's about time to leave our dispute behind and resume working together for the benefit of Magical Britain."

Hermione thought that Fudge was actually a good sport. She was curious whether Dumbledore would accept defeat. He barely had a choice. He was on his own now. The story of Voldemort's return had lost all credibility.

A single hour was more than enough time to stop Dumbledore's campaign once and for all. When Fudge escorted them out of his office a wide smile was plastered onto his face. He wished both of them a nice summer.

Hermione felt a huge weight lift of her when they left. So many things could have gone wrong… They were in the magical elevator when she chose to hug Harry and peck his cheek. "Thank you."

"Sirius was right, this was the right thing to do." Harry murmured into her hair while reciprocating her hug.

They only separated once the elevator stopped moving. Hermione looped her arm around Harry's in preparation of their departure through the Floo-Network. They stepped into the green flames and where gone.

In hindsight, Hermione could only marvel at the elegance and power of the Fidelius Charm protecting the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. When they had used the public fireplace in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic Harry had spoken the address loud and clear. However, the knowledge about their destination had been unable to seep into her mind even while they had been traveling there. If she could have just cast this spell on her parents home!

Her mom and dad hugged her as soon as she stepped out of the flames. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley congratulated her. Nobody stopped the Weasley siblings silly dance this time around. Sirius was just as chipper and patted Harry's back maybe a little bit too hard. Remus Lupin was the only person more laid back but even he had a few nice words for her.

When she led Harry upstairs the Weasley twins wolf-whistled. She tried to dissipate their wrong impression by saying loudly, "We need to talk."

She knew that she stressed the words right but despite her glare, nobody seemed willing to believe her. Even Harry had a silly smile on his face when the door clicked shut behind them.

"My parents and I will leave." Despite her attempt at warning Harry, her words hit him like a bucket of cold water.

"No! Why? … We have enough space here at" - Hermione could not process the address. - "I asked Sirius and he said it's fine."

"My parents don't belong in this house." Hermione shook her head. "And neither do I."

Harry objected, "But it's safe here!"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "That may be true. But my parents would never stay here once I leave for Hogwarts. They're not willing to become house guests to a place they don't even know the address of."

"Sirius will tell Dumbledore to let you into the secret," Harry exclaimed. "At the end of the day, this is his house."

"That won't be necessary." Hermione sighed. "My parents will not crash on Sirius couch. And he knows that."

Harry deflated, "Where will you go?"

"If nobody knows, nobody can tell," Hermione whispered apologetically.

"I would never betray you!" Harry said defiantly.

"Never," Hermione said and hugged him. "Not willingly." She whispered into his ear. "But there are other ways."

"Other ways..." Harry mumbled gloomily.

"Veritaserum," Hermione told him. "The fewer people who know the safer they are."

"How am I supposed to send you letters if I don't have an address?" Harry swallowed thickly.

Hermione pushed herself away from him to look at his face. "Thank you for sending Hedwig to me but there won't be any more letters Harry."

His amazingly green eyes went wide. "But you'll return to Hogwarts at the end of the summer?"

"We will meet on the Hogwarts Express." Hermione noticed the trembling in her own voice.

Saying goodbye became a very blue experience for them. Their parting kiss was very unlike the one they had exchanged before stepping off the Hogwarts Express. That one had been hopeful and looking forward to their next meeting.

Harry shuffled from one foot to the other. His hand clutched hers like she was about to disappear. He looked at her like he wanted to say or ask something but he kept quiet.

Hermione knew she should feel bad for manipulating him. But she couldn't. Everything had turned out alright. She could only ruin that by coming forth with the truth. There was a slight ache in her guts that told her that she felt sorry for lying but she knew from experience that would go away over time. Therefore, she pushed the feeling aside, pecked him one last time while squeezing his hand and said as much for him as for herself, "Everything will turn out alright!"

He sighed, "I know." He forced a smile onto his lips. "Take care!"

After a very brief goodbye aimed at the other inhabitants of the house, Remus, Sirius and Arthur brought them back to their car by Side-Along Apparition. There was a ticket under their wiper.

"A ten-minute ride from here." her dad said upon starting the engine.

Hermione told him, "There could be tracking spells. We have to stick to the plan."

He grumbled, "I don't like this."

"Hermione is right." Emma said, "Each of us will get a new set of clothes. Then we'll deposit the money from Mr. Black. Meanwhile, Hermione will buy a new wand. And then we are off."

* * *

A chime announced Hermione's entry. Seconds later Mr. Ollivander appeared from between the shelves which were filled with small boxes. "Oh, hello..." His big eyes blinked at her.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander." she greeted him.

He kept on staring at her for a long while. "You are a little old for a First Year."

Hermione inclined her head. "Indeed."

Ollivander murmured quietly to himself, "Curious! Usually, I remember every witch or wizard who bought a wand from me." Out loud he asked, "Does your wand already need maintenance?" He looked reprimandingly at her. "You should be more careful!"

Hermione cocked an eyebrow and informed the ancient wandmaker tersely, "My wand broke when I was on the run from Death Eaters."

Ollivander gasped. "You are Hermione Granger!"

"Yes, I am." The brunette gestured at her neck, "My hair is in a braid today, that's probably why you've not recognized me."

Ollivander mused thoughtfully, "Yes, that must be it." His voice wavered in distress, "Have you brought the pieces along?"

Her fingers closed around a small box in her pocket. It was long, but small in all other directions. Her mother had once said that usually a wristwatch or jewelry was to be found inside of such a container. She opened the small box delicately and offered the contents to Mr. Ollivander.

The wizard sighed sadly and picked up the two pieces. His fingertips traced both parts. "You took great care of it. No scratches. Perfect polish."

"I was told, this kind of damage is irreparable?" Her question lacked hope and sadness alike. She had already settled for the truth.

"There is no way to mend what has been broken." Ollivander's head shook sedately. "I can't even reuse any of the materials. The wood is splintered and the dragon heartstring ripped."

"That's what I expected," Hermione replied calmly.

"Do you want to keep the pieces of your wand?" Ollivander looked inquiringly at her.

"Certainly!" Hermione held the original box out to Ollivander so he could hand the pieces back.

The old wizard placed both broken parts carefully on the cotton wool that filled the box. He smiled at the care she invested in putting her broken wand back into her pocket.

"Most people would not value a broken wand."

"I am not most people." Hermione bit her tongue. She had not meant to snap at the old man.

The ancient wizard chuckled in amusement. "Indeed. I think we should try fitting you to a wand with a heartstring from the same dragon or maybe wood from the same tree as your first wand. It is good that you came to me..." Ollivander turned around and vanished between his shelves. He reappeared with two boxes. He pointed at one and said, "Same tree." He pointed at the other, "Same dragon."

"I think the core is more important than the wood," Hermione said but picked the wand with the same wood up first. She swished it like she had done repeatedly four years ago. A few sparkles could be seen. When she tried the other one, a thick shower of red sparkles emerged from its tip. "Last time the sparkles were blue."

"The color has no special meaning." Ollivander explained, "This one will serve you just as fine as your old one. A heartstring from the same dragon. But instead of vine, which was attracted to the sheer depth of your personality, it is made out of walnut. I knew walnut would fit you because wands made out of walnut are notorious for picking witches of high intelligence. And while I did not recognize you, even I heard that you're going to be the cleverest witch of the coming generation."

Hermione accepted the praise with a casual nod. "I am curious. Which breed of dragon is this heartstring from?"

"Oh, the breed of a dragon is not important." The wizard exclaimed excitedly. "Other questions are more significant. For example: Was the dragon aggressive or sedate?"

"So my personality would have to fit the dragon's?" The Gryffindor witch asked curiously.

"No." Ollivander shook his head vehemently. "It is much more complicated than that! 'Opposites attract' is true but 'birds of a feather flock together' is true as well! It is also possible to find fits beyond these two rules. Doing so is very hard though."

Hermione thought that Mr. Ollivander was quite eager to explain himself like nobody ever bothered to ask him. "So we could actually find up to three wands that fit me?"

"Way more my dear!" Ollivander's eyes had a gleam in them. "Especially for you. You have a lot of characteristics. Personality is what makes a wand work." His hand slipped over some boxes on the shelf next to the counter. "The question is: How well a specific wand works for you?" He selected one and handed it over to Hermione, "Try this one."

Hermione opened the box and took a hold of the wand.

"No reaction," Ollivander said. "When a wizard touches a wand, that fits him his magic usually unstresses thanks to the feeling of the matched wand. Visible sparks of magic get unleashed. Try to cast a Lumos."

"Lumos!" A weak cone of light appeared. Hermione frowned and the light grew slowly brighter.

"You compensate! You should not have to do that." Ollivander held his hand out. Hermione handed the wand back to him once she had boxed it.

"Let's see..." His hand caressed numerous boxes. "Try this one."

Once more Hermione made the wand shoot sparkles. But less than with the wand she had held before. She tried to cast, "Lumos!" The light was bluish.

"Are you up for a few more wands?" Garrick Ollivander asked keenly.

Hermione knew her parents were in two separate banks right now and setting up new accounts. Since she already had a wand she should have a few moments to spare… "I would love to try more wands!"

"Wonderful!" The shopkeeper said and turned his back at the counter skimming over his shelves repleted with countless wands. "Most people want to get this over as fast as possible."

The wandcrafter had a lot of fun handing her wand after wand. He watched her produce showers of sparkles each different in color and intensity. Hermione cast so many Lumos spells that afternoon that it was as if she was once more in First Year and practicing the spell. Occasionally she picked up the second wand she had tested. The one made out of walnut and with the heartstring of the same dragon her first wand had produced the best spells. Though many wands were very close.

Ollivander assured her, "Those wands would turn out to fit perfectly in just a few weeks. A little bit of training is all you would need to get used to them. You would still produce Outstandings with them."

Hermione accepted that explanation and compared a number of wands that were closest to her best fit. She tried to examine which one was better suited for her but they were just different from each other and neither was superior compared to the others.

After being handed what felt like a hundred wands, Hermione requested, "I would like to try one with a core of unicorn hair."

Ollivander grinned. "Sure." He vanished for half a minute in the murk of his shop. When he reappeared his grin had become even wider. "Walnut from the same tree as your best fit so far. But this time combined with unicorn hair!"

Hermione had barely touched the wand when she felt it. The wand was wrong for her. She could feel the unicorn. And it was really the unicorn she felt despite touching wood. She remembered the sensation of being close to the magical creature. It had felt pure and soothing. Like peace had tried to turn into a horse, but had created a creature that was... not better but more to the point of its own nature. There was no way a knight could have mounted a unicorn to go to war.

It was soothing to hold this wand. Alas, she felt this wand would hold her back from casting. Hermione had the distinct impression that it would be hard for her to get this wand to do magic. It felt sluggish. Like magic could not really flow through it.

And that was it! Her magic could not flow through this wand. Only a pure and compassionate wizard or witch would be able to use this wand. She was neither.

She grabbed a dragon heartstring wand. Yes! She felt the raw power beyond the wood. It felt as immense as the creature it was from. Her magic coursed through this wand unhindered. It flew freely back and forth and was even intensified by the right choice of the wand. Like her magic was fuel and this wand was a flame that set it afire. "I would like to compare it to a phoenix feather wand."

Ollivander had obviously expected this request. He nodded at a box on his counter. "I only have a few wands with phoenix feathers in store. Not many people are suited to them."

The wand felt not unlike one with a Dragon Heartstring although not as mighty. Something about it was weird. The longer she held the wand the more she became aware of its weirdness. Her magic felt hampered. The unicorn tail hair had been worse. This one was not sluggish. Her magic could flow into the wand but it was... unstable… choppy? Hermione intoned, "Lumos!" The light of the wand was pulsing irregularly.

"Phoenix feathers are always tricky." Mr. Ollivander commented. "They can be immensely powerful but for most of us it is very hard work to get stable results out of them."

Hermione tried a number of wands with phoenix feather cores. All of them felt flawed. The one Ollivander had given her first worked overall best for her. But not even that one came close to the medium fits of Dragon Heartstring.

The studious witch tried to decide which of a trio would be better for her. Meanwhile, Garrick was shuffling boxes in a very low shelf. Suddenly he exclaimed jubilantly, "Here it is!" He returned with a slight bounce in his step. He looked to be extra eager how his customer would do with this one.

Hermione accepted the offered wand. Upon lifting her hand it produced a thick rain of copper-colored sparkles. She exclaimed with great pleasure, "This wand feels right too!" She picked up the walnut and dragon heartstring wand she had thought she would buy up until now. She compared both wands through casting a number of easy spells.

"Two perfect fits!" Garrick said happily. "This one has a heartstring from another dragon. And the wand wood is hornbeam! My wand is made out of that wood as well. It is extremely rare to find someone fitting to this wood."

Hermione looked at Mr. Ollivander. "I know it is impolite to ask. But can I give your wand a try?"

"Normally I would decline," the wizard answered with a smile, "But I'll make an exception for you."

Hermione accepted his wand and found that it would do nothing for her. There was not even a gleam of light when she tried to cast, "Lumos!"

She handed the wand back to Ollivander. "This wand would work very well for you if it was not mine. You can use hornbeam and you can use dragon heartstring as well. However, hornbeam wands grow extremely attached to their owners. Nobody will be able to use such a wand once that process has been completed. I would strongly suggest you choose this wand. Hornbeam is known for choosing talented wizards and witches with a single passion in their lives. Some say it is for the obsessed."

Hermione weighed the wand in her hand.

"I would have asked you if you were interested in wandlore. But your passion belongs to something or someone else." Mr. Ollivander revealed seriously.

"I would like to buy both wands."

"That is highly unusual!" Garrick exclaimed but he hesitated. He mumbled once again, "But both wands are perfect fits for you... and I always sell wands that fit perfectly. And I understand your reasoning. Getting your wand broken..." He swallowed glumly. "You'll have to use both of them regularly or their core will wither and they'll stop working."

* * *

A/N: Sorry, for the long wait! -insert-uninteresting-explanation-here- Apropos explanation, the explanations for the wood are from JKR. I took some freedom about the cores though. Another big thank you to gahmeep for beta-reading!


	25. Hogwarts Express

Hogwarts Express

* * *

It was his fifth year at Hogwarts but Harry felt more nervous upon boarding the Hogwarts Express than ever. Since the beginning of his first year, he had always been ecstatic at the prospect of getting aboard the train. First, because it had carried him away from the Dursleys. Later on, he had looked forward to going back home to Hogwarts.

This time around he felt different. He was full of dread - not because of the destination but for the company.

"Everything will turn out alright, Harry. There is no reason to be nervous." Sirius whispered in the bubble of privacy that was created inadvertently by wary wizards and witches. The platform was rather empty and the small crowd made good use of the available space by staying away as far as possible from the former public enemy number one.

The two of them had left Grimmauld Place without the Weasleys. Harry had announced that he was under no circumstances able to wait until eleven o'clock. He had been surprised but grateful as well when Sirius had said that they would leave immediately then.

"What if she's not on the train?" Harry asked glumly.

"In that case, you'll take an empty compartment and wait for her." The adult wizard answered lightly. He grinned, "Ladies like to make a wizard wait."

Once more Harry's eyes roamed over the small crowd, "I meant, what do I do if she is not returning to Hogwarts this year."

"Why shouldn't she?"

Harry could not stop himself from snorting, "There are round about a hundred reasons for her not to! I'm sure she could attend any school if she wanted to. She's super-clever!"

"Listen, if the worst happens and Hermione does not return to Hogwarts, we'll figure things out." The older wizard clapped his shoulder sympathetically. "We'll find out which school she's going to now and then we'll transfer you there."

Harry frowned then asked hesitantly, "Is that even possible once the term has started?"

"Anything is possible for the Boy-Who-Lived," Sirius announced loud enough for the entire platform. He gestured dramatically too!

Harry glared at his godfather.

Suddenly, the adult wizard hugged him hard. His parting words were, "You look dashing. Now get on that train and find your witch!" He gave Harry a push in direction of the nearest wagon.

Harry tried to engrave the picture of Sirius into his mind. Which was not that hard, given that he wore a red robe with golden lapels and was giving him a double-thumbs-up. The robe was preposterous but up until a few moments ago the tall wizard had pulled wearing it off.

Harry could only hope that he looked half as good in his own new robe. He really had no idea how his godfather had talked him into wearing one. Sirius' by far best argument had been, "This way you'll have something to talk about with Hermione." It wasn't even a good argument! Still, Harry boarded the train wearing a new black robe with blood-red lining and golden ornamental seams.

"I'll write you!" Harry promised and turned to search the Hogwarts Express for Hermione. His trunk was shrunken and stowed in his pocket so he only had to carry Hedwig in her cage.

He found his girlfriend in the very last wagon of the Hogwarts Express. She was sitting next to a window. Hermione was already wearing her Hogwarts uniform and was completely engrossed by a thick tome. Harry found the concentration on her face as adorable as her thick brown hair.

Insecurity had frozen Harry's hand on the handle of the compartment door due to the scene in front of him. Hermione was not alone. Opposite her sat a young witch. Her straggly, blonde hair was so long that its tips reached the bench she was sitting on. She was wearing a light blue dress. A pair of sandals dangled on the very tip of her toes. The girl squirmed occasionally.

Hermione, on the other hand, sat perfectly still. Her back was straight and she had her legs crossed at the ankles like a lady. The extreme contrast between the two witches was perfected by the thin magazine the unknown girl held upside down. She flipped back and forth between two of its pages.

A hoot interrupted Harry's musing. He looked down at his owl. Hedwig's huge unblinking eyes, in turn, stared at him. She was shuffling on her perch impatiently. "Alright, I'll get a grip on myself."

He opened the door gently and said, "Hi." Nothing else. Just the smallest dumbest word he could come up with. Harry would have liked to bite his own tongue.

"Oh, hi! Nice to see you!" The blonde witch greeted him excitedly.

Hermione slammed her book shut making Harry flinch. She snapped, "Harry was talking to me!"

There was no opportunity for him to comment on this. The brunette witch stood up abruptly, grabbed his collar and pulled him in for an intense kiss. For a moment, he did wonder if this was some sort of demonstration or if this was Hermione's idea of expressing how much she had missed him.

Upon separation they found the witch staring openly at them. Her big silvery eyes were observing them like a rare breed of unicorns.

Hermione huffed in annoyance but she sat down without a single word. Her fingers drummed impatiently on her armrest. Harry placed his shrunken trunk overhead and unshrunk it. He placed Hedwig right next to it.

When he sat down, he noticed that Hermione's eyes were going back and forth between the other witch and the compartment door. Her voice was chilly, "This would be a very convenient moment to start searching for your friends."

"I don't have any friends." The blonde girl said with a shrug. She picked her magazine up and resumed reading it.

If this announcement, made Hermione sad in the most minuscule way, she hid it very proficiently. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why are you holding your magazine upside down?"

The girl in the blue dress was absolutely unimpressed by Hermione's venomous look. She flipped her magazine in a way that it remained upside down but in which the other witch could take a look at the page she had been studying. "These runes on the runestone of Elsmoth only make sense if you read them with the wrong side up. A giant must have flipped them!"

"That is... What?" Hermione snatched the magazine and stared at the large picture of a stone. Harry looked as well. At some point, runes had been engraved into the tall stone. They were barely recognizable as such – probably due to being exposed to the weather for centuries. On a smaller picture, Harry saw a wizard doing a handstand in front of another runestone.

Harry felt skeptical. But since he had chosen Care for Magical Creatures and Divination as his electives he had no way of making an educated guess. Therefore he ended up glancing repeatedly at his girlfriend while she in turn looked daggers at the picture.

"That is hogwash!" Hermione announced finally. "These runes are weather-worn. That is the reason they are unreadable. They make no sense at all if they are turned upside down."

"What kind of magazine is this, anyway?" Hermione turned it over to read out the title on the cover, "The Quibbler?" She flipped through it and started reading out the headlines of articles in a disbelieving voice. "Fudge makes pastries out of goblins! ... Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?! ..." And then suddenly with a normal voice, Hermione read out, "Mars, Venus, Saturn, and Jupiter - a full circle with centaurs."

To Harry's great astonishment Hermione did not only fall silent she started devouring the double-paged article. Harry and the blonde witch watched her reading. Once done, Hermione asked eagerly, "Where is this magazine from?"

"Daddy." said the witch and shrugged her shoulders. One of her sandals fell down to the floor. Harry watched the witch squirm on the edge of the seat while her wriggling toes tried to turn the sandal upside up.

"Excellent!" Hermione exclaimed and turned to face Harry, "She answered my question! From her father!"

Harry realized belatedly that she had been ironic.

Hermione glared at the other witch, "Where did he get it from?"

"Out of the printing press."

Harry saw Hermione open her lips to make another acerbic comment. Her mouth snapped shut at the very last moment. Then she frowned and asked curiously, "Your father is publishing this magazine?"

"That's right. His name is Xenophilius Lovegood. His name is noted right above the title and on the backside too." The girl explained helpfully.

"What is your name?" Harry hurried to ask.

"Oh, I'm Luna Lovegood!" The blonde girl answered. She was beaming with joy.

"Hi, Luna, I'm Harry Potter and that's Hermione Granger."

"No need to introduce yourself." Luna smiled mysteriously. "I already knew both of your names."

"Has your father written this article about centaurs?" Hermione asked almost greedily.

Luna craned her neck to take a look at the article. "No, he has not written that one."

"Who wrote it? It is not signed." Hermione complained.

Luna's protuberanteyes blinked slowly. "I don't know."

"Can you ask him? I would really like to know who wrote this article!" Hermione pressed the younger witch.

There was another slow blink of silvery eyes. "Sure, if it makes you happy."

Hermione pulled parchment and quill out of a pocket of her school uniform. "Write to him now. You have nothing else to do."

Luna frowned. "But I've got no owl."

"Harry has an owl. He will lend it to you. Once." After a very long moment, Hermione turned to look at him. "Will you?"

"Well," Harry hesitated, "I was kind of planning to write a letter tonight..." His voice faded out looking at the two witches. "But I guess no news would be considered good news anyway. So... it's alright."

"Excellent." Hermione beamed at him.

Harry got Hedwig's cage from overhead. When he got her out of her cage, she looked disgruntledly at the three humans. "I know that it's still before noon!" Harry whispered in a soothing voice.

"Your owl is very beautiful." Luna started petting the bird cautiously once it was in reach of her petite fingers.

After a minute of watching this Hermione ran out of patience. "The letter." she reminded the other witch. She picked Hedwig up and started petting the owl herself. She even gave her an owl treat which she pulled somewhere out of her school uniform.

"What exactly got you so curious about that article?" Harry asked in hopes of stopping Hermione from reading every word Luna noted down in her letter.

"Read it for yourself," Hermione said and handed Harry the Quibbler while watching every stroke of Luna's quill.

The article rendered Harry speechless. The author had lived a full year with a tribe of centaurs and what he had witnessed was remarkable. He described a culture vastly different from their own. Astronomy was omnipresent for them. The article finished with the offer of the author to take up a correspondence with anyone interested in centaurs. He was hoping to dispel the cloud of misconceptions surrounding them. Harry frowned. How could an obviously clever wizard ask to get in contact and then forget to leave any contact details?

Harry glanced across the compartment. Luna was writing quite a bit if one considered that she had probably last seen her father at breakfast.

"I wanted to tell you that I got a perch," Hermione said out of the blue.

Harry turned his head to look at her. His girlfriend's eyes never left the parchment in front of Luna. He scratched his head in puzzlement. "What do you need a perch for?"

"It's for Hedwig."

Harry thought her response prompted more questions than it answered. One of them was, "Why'd you buy a perch for Hedwig? She doesn't need one." Harry turned his head to look at his owl. "I already got a cage for her. And while I'm at Hogwarts she does not even use that. She's basically living in the Owlery."

"She does not need to any longer," Hermione announced. "Hedwig can sleep in the girl's dormitory from now on."

Harry felt steamrolled. Where came Hermione's interest for his owl from? He had barely finished the thought when he remembered that fateful night. "Maybe Hedwig does not want to? In the Owlery, she's together with other owls."

"Owls do not live in flocks. They are solitary birds of prey. The Owlery is unnatural."

Harry blinked in surprise. He had known that! Why had he never thought of it? "What about the other girls?"

"There won't be any problem." The brunette replied without a hint of worry. "Hedwig is pretty. They are shallow."

"And what if Hedwig prefers to stay in the Owlery anyway? I tried to keep her in my dormitory in the first year. She did not like it."

"I wonder what was the problem?" Hermione's voice was heavy with sarcasm, "Maybe five boys and an owl that would like to sleep during the day are not ideal roommates?"

He could hardly fault her logic. Instead, Harry picked Hedwig up from Hermione's lap and placed her on the seat next to him. He asked gently, "What do you think?"

His snowy owl looked at him and hooted softly.

"You wanna give it a try?" he asked in a low voice.

Hedwig bobbed her head jerkily.

Only moments later, Luna finally finished writing her letter. Between her petting, she fixed it to Hedwig's leg.

It was Harry's job to carry his owl out of the compartment. He goggled at the landscape beyond the window. They had not only departed from King's Cross Station but already left London behind? Instead of stepping out of the wagon Harry found a window which could be opened wide enough so that his owl was able to pass through it. Before he send her off, Harry told her, "Okay, girl, this letter is for..." He read the name. On the second turn, he moved his lips silently along. Only on the third trial did he read the name out loud, "Xenophilius Lovegood."

Hedwig looked pitifully at him. The wizard wondered if she had already known who ought to receive the letter. "Just wanted to make sure." He said defiantly before whispering, "Watch out."

His owl bit him affectionately before she flew off. Harry stared at her shrinking silhouette until they passed a group of trees and he lost sight of her.

When he reentered the compartment both witches were once more reading. He sat down next to Hermione, then shuffled closer until their shoulders touched. Carefully he pushed his hand in between the witch's back and the backrest. She gave no indication whether she noticed his advances but when he softly pulled her closer with his arm around her waist, she leaned willingly into him.

Soon Hermione had snuggled into his side. Her head was resting on his shoulder with her hair tickling his ear. Her book was lying as much on his lap as on hers.

A while later Hermione leafed through another issue of The Quibbler. She frowned at most articles. Sometimes she shook her head vehemently or huffed in clear annoyance but once in a while, she stopped to not only read but devour an article. Meanwhile, Luna had produced yet another issue of the magazine from her trunk and read it happily. Three small letters in the upper corner told Harry that it was from May... he squished his eyes... the numbers did not change... May 1986.

Harry was about to request a magazine for himself when the door to their compartment door was opened.

"There you are, Harry," Ron exclaimed. He was about to enter the compartment when he was suddenly jerked back.

"What do you think..." "... you're doing?" Fred and George asked in their usual manner. Each of them had one hand on one of Ron's shoulders. "We promised mom to check..." "...if he had found Hermione." "We're not going to intrude..." "...and neither are you."

"But I always ride the train with Harry!" Ron protested. "And now that the stupid prefect meeting is over I'll do just that!"

"You used to ride the train with Harry." George – Harry was pretty sure it was George – corrected him.

"Notice the past tense here!" snapped defi...probably Fred waspishly.

"It's crucial to learn when to leave someone a bit of space." the other twin finished in a wise tone.

"Dear brother, you really need to learn..." "...when your company is desired." The two of them declared with an ease that made it seem like they shared one mind with two bodies.

Ron said stubbornly, "I'm Harry's friend."

The twins pulled him out of the door frame. One of them started talking very fast at him while at the same time pushing him out of sight.

The other one said, "Good that you're back, Hermione!" He closed the door with a soft click.

A minute later Harry wondered if the surreal visit had ever taken place or if he had dozed off. Neither he or one of the witches had said anything. Did he dare to disturb one of them? He leaned his head back in thought and dozed off.

The next hour was pleasantly uneventful and Harry had a very refreshing nap after all those nights he had been worrying about Hermione and whether she would return to Hogwarts.

Ultimately, all good things had to come to an end. Especially lucky streaks and good times! Harry was slipping from the small lavatory at the end of the train when he caught a glimpse of white-blond hair in the very next wagon. He groaned over his abyssal timing!

Just as he reached for the door of his compartment he glanced one more time in Draco's direction. The Slytherin gestured at someone. The last thing Harry saw before closing his own door was Goyle's bulky frame stepping into the corridor.

He slumped into his seat and warned the two girls, "Draco is coming to make trouble."

And for someone failing big time at Divination Harry's prediction turned out to be absolutely correct.

The compartment door was pushed open with a loud bang. Draco sneered at the three of them. His goons Crabbe and Goyle glowered over his shoulders. "Potter, ten Points from Gryffindor for loitering."

Draco's prefect badge sparkled unnaturally. Harry wondered whether he had charmed the dumb thing.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for fraternizing with mudbloods and..." Draco looked at Luna and blinked in bewilderment. "...Loony."

The confused silence was broken by a sigh of exasperation. Hermione lowered her book and leaned around Harry to glare at the nuisance. "Since you are oblivious to it, let me educate you on wizard customs. You can't take points on the Hogwarts Express. Despite common belief, the ride is not part of the term. The term starts only after the sorting ceremony. You're welcome. Leave. Now."

While Draco's sneer was whipped off his face his shitty attitude remained behind, "Listen you little mudblood, some things are going to change this year. Someone will finally show you your place!"

"Is that what your father said?" Harry singsonged mockingly.

Hermione giggled.

Luna watched everything unfold with wide eyes.

Draco hissed angrily, "Don't you dare talk about my father."

Even without looking Harry knew that Hermione was rolling her eyes.

"Draco," Harry said seriously. He had to concentrate to neither chuckle or smirk. Both would ruin his little prepared speech, "Everybody knows that I'm very important to you. But you have to finally realize that those feelings are one-sided. I don't swing that way. I'm only interested in witches." He patted Hermione's knee.

Draco's face turned ghastly pale and his eyes bulged like they wanted to challenge Luna's, who gaped openly at him. Hermione giggled almost madly. Crabbe and Goyle were frowning. Harry could not tell whether they had understood what he had implied.

"Shut up!" Draco barked. His hand went into his cloak.

Harry rushed to pull his own wand out but Draco had already frozen before he had untangled it. Crabbe and Goyle had not even tried. Harry glanced sideways.

Hermione's wand was aimed at Draco. Very slowly she switched to pointing it at Crabbe and Goyle. "Get lost, before I decide to exploit the fact, that nobody can take points for hexing you before we arrive at Hogwarts."

Since he stood a very good chance of getting cursed. Draco pulled his hand very slowly out of his cloak. He retreated with clenched teeth. He grabbed the handle of the sliding door and shoved it close with all his might. He looked confused when his effort was not rewarded with a glass shattering bang but just a soft click.

Hermione cheerfully waved her wand at him. "Write a nice letter to your father!"

Harry watched Draco storm off in a fit. Crabbe and Goyle tagged along.

"Such a nuisance!" huffed the witch and picked her book up from her lap.

"How did you draw your wand so fast?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "I drew my wand the moment you told me Draco was coming."

"Oh..." Harry felt a grin spread his lips. "I missed you."

"Me too." Hermione cuddled into his side and resumed reading. Suddenly, she giggled once more. "Just imagine if we managed to spread the rumor. Draco – gay!"

"I wish that had been my idea." Harry really did. "Sirius came up with it." He felt Hermione grow stiff at the mention of the older wizard and hurriedly said, "He's really sorry!"

"I don't care!" his girlfriend growled.

"He said it's okay if you don't forgive him." Sirius was very remorseful. He was a bit theatrical about it though. However, he had insisted that Harry would not only accept Hermione's stance but would not try to intervene on his behalf. "He knows that he really messed up big time and he just wants you to know that he is very grateful that neither you or your parents got harmed."

Hermione did not answer that one, which was in Harry's opinion not the worst reaction possible. "And he also wants you to know that he is glad for being a free wizard once more." He took a deep breath and went on talking, "And since that is only due to Peter Pettigrew turning up which was your... um... doing... He's thankful for that as well."

"I can live without his gratitude." Hermione sniffed and turned her face to look out at the picturesque Middle English landscape.

This dialog was obviously over. Harry was not especially surprised by her reaction. He had kind of expected it. For that reason, the letter Sirius had written for her was stored in his trunk and not in his pocket. Harry stared at some cottages passing by in the distance. They were forming a very small village at the edge of a forest.

A while later Hermione was reading pointedly.

Harry felt his gaze drawn to Luna. She was staring right back at him. Her eyes were big and expectant. "So... Luna... have you done anything exciting lately?"

"Oh! Most definitely!" Luna started and begun telling a tale about a ludicrous excursion she had been on with her father. They had been in Norway hunting a species of invisible creatures Harry had never heard of. The young wizard caught himself repeatedly gaping and saying things like, "You did not!" or, "Really?"

The witch with the food trolley came around at some point. Harry bought cake and sweets for both girls and himself.

Around that time Hermione broke her silence and they had once more a relatively nice ride to Hogwarts. Restricted by Luna's presence the couple cuddled for most of it. Hermione went back to checking The Quibbler for interesting articles. There seemed to be one issue of every edition ever published in Luna's trunk.

Harry thought the magazine was a very weird mishmash. The articles were as different as the authors who had written them – and usually they did sign their articles. Some were quite good. Others were not only far-fetched but outright silly – like the one about Fudge eating pastries made out of Goblins. Harry just had to read that one! It was in fact so silly that he started to wonder whether it was meant to be a satire.

You could say about The Quibbler what you wanted but it was an interesting diversion. If only Luna and Hermione would argue a little less fiercely about the magazine's content. But neither witch could change her spots.

In the middle of one of these arguments, Ginny passed by them. Upon glancing into their compartment, she went ghostly white - which really made her red hair stand out. She entered, squeaked, "Hi!" and all but abducted Luna.

Harry watched the door close bewilderedly. When he turned to look at Hermione she had already put her reading material away and was staring at him expectantly. Harry exclaimed, "I really missed you!"

Hermione gasped in surprise when he pulled her onto his lap.

"I missed hugging you," he whispered while holding her close.

Hermione looked at him longingly. Her brown eyes seemed to be bigger than usual. "I missed you too."

"I really missed talking to you." Harry whispered, "Just being together... you know?"

Hermione smiled brightly at him. "Me too."

"But I think most of all I missed kissing you." He pecked her cheek.

The witch on his lap grinned mischievously. She gave him a peck as well. "Same!"

Half an hour later Luna had yet to return. So Harry pushed his agenda forward to the second thing he had missed, "So, are your parents safe and sound?"

"Yes, they are." Hermione's facial expression turned thoughtful for a moment then she added, "Definitely safe. I put suitable defenses in place. And they are far away."

Harry wondered what Hermione might deem suitable to protect her parents. "Deadly traps?"

"No!" Hermione answered vehemently. More calm she added, "I don't want them to get killed by their own wards."

Harry was a bit perplexed, "Why should their own wards harm them?"

"At some point, everyone will be outside of his own home," Hermione said in her lecture voice. Harry could barely hide his grin at the sound of her. "They could even leave the warded area without wanting to. For example, my dad might step over the ward line from the inside without noticing it while cutting the lawn. One of them could misstep for another reason! Deadly traps? That's insane."

"I never thought about it like that." Harry conceded. And now that he thought about it... They had actually never stepped out of Grimmauld Place. "How did you get around the Trace while placing those protections?"

Hermione glanced at him and then at the door. She swished her wand in a complicated gesture and spoke something in the quietest of mumbles before revealing, "I've only returned from abroad today. The Trace is not considered to be an eligible option in various countries. Some countries don't utilize it for historical reasons others consider it unequal for muggleborns and purebloods. Many countries just prefer the methods of surveillance they developed on their own."

"And you've got around all those methods?"

Suddenly, Hermione kissed his cheek. When she leaned back she smiled widely at him, "Only around one."

"Oh!" Harry felt his face heat up in embarrassment. "Um... so... how are your parents doing? Do they like their new home."

"The new house is quite nice. Maybe it's even a little bit too lavish. Mom likes it. But dad... He's not disliking the house per se... I think, he is disgruntled because we ran away. And he really liked working as a dentist. Mom is working on him. The biggest problem is that they have to get used to their retirement. I think dad is somewhat hanging in limbo. He has to find something to occupy himself especially. Mom wants to travel. Personally, I think that's a good idea."

"They are not going to open up a new dental office?" Harry asked flabbergasted. Just, how much money did Sirius give them?

Hermione shook her head which felt weird since it was once more lying on his shoulder. "Especially starting a practice is a lot of work. And at their age, any investment they'd make in equipment is unlikely to pay off."

Harry subconsciously scratched his head while thinking. He knew it was kind of impolite to ask but given the topic of their conversation he did so anyway, "How old are your parents?"

Hermione's head lifted off his shoulder so she could frown at him in an admonishing way. In the end, she answered anyway, "Both were born in 1938."

Without deciding to do so the wizard calculated the elder Grangers current age. And he nearly blurted his result out too! They were way older than he had expected. Harry tried to come up with something to say but his brain was kind of stuck on the number fifty-seven.

Harry racked his brain to find a way of changing the topic, "Far away – that does mean your parents are now living in another country."

"Yes, but don't ask which one," Hermione said briskly.

He had had no intention of doing so but he was curious, "How did you manage to talk your parents into leaving the country?"

"It was not as hard as one would think." Hermione sighed, "They are still pretty shaken. I could kind of reason with them that this was the safest option."

"Kind of?" Harry asked.

"It boiled down to the question if they were comfortable with me going home and staying there alone. They were not. So I asked them how I was supposed to feel when I was at Hogwarts while they were in Aylesbury."

Night had fallen when the Hogwarts Express finally arrived in Hogsmeade. All three of them stepped out onto the sparsely lighted platform in the magical village. Hagrid's deep voice called out, "First Years! Come on now, First Years. Don't be shy!"

The horseless carriages were waiting for the rest of the students right outside of Hogsmeade. Luna skipped off in search of the carriage she had been using last year. Which was really weird because they were all the same but her departure was too welcome for them to question it. After all the couple was in for a romantic ride under the starlight.

They had just sat down and were waiting their turn to drive off when the door to their carriage was pulled open. Two girls were chatting animatedly with each other. The ride from London to Hogsmeade had seemingly been too short to share all their experiences over the summer.

The first girl had not spared them a look or let alone greeted them but was already halfway inside when Hermione snapped, "What do you think, you are doing?"

The blonde turned her head. Harry saw her facial expression before she recognized Hermione. It was almost comical how fast one could go from willing to fight to caving in. "I... we... castle?"

"That is my boyfriend." Hermione let go of even the last of her manners and pointed her finger at him. "Now: Read the mood!" She gestured at the shiny half moon.

The two witches turned just as red as Harry felt. However, they shut the door from the outside and hurried away to find another carriage.

One romantic ride later, the feast was about to start. Harry was very hungry by now and looking forward to the feast. He had barely set foot into the Great Hall when Ron called out from the middle of the Gryffindor table, "I saved you a spot!"

Once more, Harry could practically feel Hermione rolling her eyes.

The Sorting Hat sang a new song, then did its job dutifully and split the new First Years among the four houses. No hatstall this year!

Traditionally, this was the time for the headmaster's speech. He introduced a witch named Grubbly-Plank, who would take over Care for Magical Creatures. It was a good thing he had not started with introducing the new Professor for Defense against the Dark Arts because once he did she cut his speech short.

Dolores Umbridge made some weird noise in between a cough and a sneeze upon which everyone turned his or her head to look at her. "Thank you for these kind words..." she started and droned on for minutes. When Harry turned to talk to Hermione he found her to be one of the few students who was listening to her.

Once she was done they resumed with the usual procedure. Dumbledore clapped his hands and loads of food appeared on the house tables. The name-giving feast of the Welcoming Feast left them all sated.

Soon the students started to trickle out of the Great Hall in small groups. Harry found himself flanked by Hermione and Ron on either side of him.

Hermione was left of him. She was softly pulling on his hand to get going. But Harry refused to move. He turned to face his best mate right beside him. "Ron?"

"What's up, Harry?" The redhead in question asked. He was a step closer to the door and looked in confusion at Harry like he was wondering what he was waiting for.

Harry looked meaningfully at the badge on his uniform. It had no effect. Harry sighed. Hermione snickered beside him. Harry knew she would have led Ron straight to Gryffindor tower. "Are you not supposed to lead the First Years to Gryffindor Tower?"

"Oh!" Ron exclaimed in shock. "You are right. See you later!" He hurried to the head of the Gryffindor table, where Parvati and Lavender already talked to the new First Years. They were too far away for Harry to see which one of them had become the female Gryffindor Prefect.

"Sometimes, you can be mean," Harry whispered albeit only mildly disappointed.

Hermione mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "I'm only mean sometimes but Ron is always an idiot." Harry was not really sure he had understood her right and when he requested her to repeat her statement, the brunette said, "Ron has come into a position of great responsibility. He should better start with living up to it. If he does so now, he might grow into a respectable person despite everything so far." She huffed, "That is the only explanation I can come up with why McGonagall has made him a prefect. You were the obvious choice after all."

Harry pulled a face. He could hardly tell Hermione that lying in her favor might also be at fault for this. McGonagall was a member of the Order of the Phoenix as well and a close companion of Dumbledore on top. Thus he had kind of let her down as well.

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A/N: I'd like to thank everybody for their interest in this story. I'm happy for everyone reading and enjoying this! I cherish all the reviews I received! And most of all I'd like to thank gahmeep who has beta-read this chapter.


	26. Ignore or Confront?

Ignore or Confront?

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Early in the morning, the library was especially peaceful. There were no study groups with their silently whispered debates. There was no chatter at the end of an exhausting day. There were no students endlessly rifling through the shelves in search of a grain of information that could be found in their standard textbooks. Right at this time, there was pure and blissful peace.

Each and every morning Hermione could bask in the glory of having the entire library for herself! She was loving these early hours, just like she loved those afternoons when a Quidditch match was scheduled.

Only the scratching of her very own quill and Madam Pince could be heard. The librarian was looking over the tomes. She put misplaced books where they belonged. She neatly arranged them into categories and sorted them by their authors' names.

Hermione wasn't even bothered that each and every day this wonderful time ended in the same manner. The opposite was true. She was looking forward to Harry fetching her for their classes. He would silently step up to her. The smell of warm croissants would waft around him. Sometime over the summer break, he had looked a spell up that kept them warm and most delicious!

"Good morning, Harry!" By now the two of them were used enough to each other that it became hard to tell whom of them initiated a kiss.

They left the library. Hermione's right arm curled around Harry's left while he handed her the first croissant. They were still in the library but Hermione ignored the rules and stealthily started eating it.

From her point of view, she noticed a shadow below his eyes. It was almost hidden by Harry's glasses. Between two bites she asked, "How have you been sleeping?"

"Fine," Harry replied while turning his head away to check the sky through a window. "Do you think it will clear up?"

Hermione glanced at the thick gray clouds that were almost touching the mountains, "No." She went on pursuing her line of questioning, "What's bothering you?"

"Bothering me?" Harry turned his head in mild surprise. "Nothing! I'm fine."

"Really?" Hermione's voice was thick with doubt.

"Really. I'm fine." He repeated in an absent minded tone.

Hermione stopped walking.

Harry followed her example one step later. "We have to go or we'll be late."

Hermione stepped into his personal space. She cupped his cheek and made him look at her. Then, she pushed his glasses up. There were rings under his eyes. "When did you go to bed?"

"Right after we said good night." He shrugged, "Why are you asking?"

"You look tired. Like you're lacking sleep." Her thumb caressed one of the dark half-moons under his eyes. Otherwise, his skin was rather pale. Hermione frowned, "And not just from a single night of sleep deprivation but multiple ones!"

"I'm fine," Harry repeated once more but with a certain finality in his tone. A soft pull from him on her arm made her let go of his glasses which he adjusted on his nose while they resumed walking to Defense.

Hermione thought about probing her boyfriend to find out what was bothering him. But the class would start very soon. A bit at a loss how to proceed she finished the temporarily forgotten croissant in her left hand. When she was done she felt a very faint tickle on her lower lip. She realized that there was most likely a crumb of the pastry sticking to her. Which gave her an idea to cheer her grumpy boyfriend up. "Is there a crumpet on my mouth?" The question was accompanied by her most seductive look.

It did not work as planned: Harry pointed at his own bottom lip and said, "Yeah, you've got something right there."

Hermione's nostrils flared. That had been a perfectly obvious hint in her mind! How could he not get it? She mused that he was maybe more tired than she had initially anticipated and was, therefore, a bit slow on the uptake.

"Gone?" she asked and looked squarely into his eyes while letting her tongue slowly slip over her upper lip.

Harry's green eyes went wide. "Let me help you," He offered while already leaning in to kiss her. It was a very nice kiss and it was sad that they were on a tight schedule to get to class in time. As it was, Harry had to pull her along the last two corridors. They barely managed to slip onto their seats in time.

Hermione was not too out of breath to notice Umbridge glaring at the two of them when she placed her textbook, parchment, and quill but not her wand on the table.

The bell announced the start of their lesson. Umbridge told them the pages they were supposed to work on today. There was no talking back about this. Definitely not from Harry or Hermione. Umbridge had made sure of that in their very first lesson.

Hermione had warned Harry about their new teacher in advance. She had summarized the unasked speech Umbridge had given at the Welcoming Feast. The toad-like witch had explained to the gathered students and faculty in the most boring way possible that she had not only come to Hogwarts to teach DADA but to take over the entire school for the Ministry.

The long explanation topped off with some quotes had been a complete waste of time. Upon entering their classroom on the third floor, their eyes had fallen on Umbridge who had prepared her very own message to shut the two of them up.

Umbridge had sat at her table, reading the newspaper. However, she had not been reading the most recent issue of the Daily Prophet. Instead of the Knight Bus flattening the flowerbed in front of Buckingham Palace her newspaper had had a picture of Cornelius Fudge shaking Harry's hand on the front page. The headline had been a well-known one: 'Fudge right! Dumbledore wrong! - Harry Potter reveals the true story of being temporary lunatic!'

They had both understood the warning very well. Umbridge had started their first lesson by telling them that Dumbledore was wrong about Voldemort's return. She had then made Harry repeat the whole story that had been printed in the Daily Prophet. Hermione had been as invisible for Umbridge as the article about the attack on her home which was a vertically written stump squashed between a column about Italian robes and the announcement of a wedding on page fifteen.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand encouragingly. It was hard for him to have his favorite class ruined by the human-sized toad sitting in front of the blackboard. Umbridge had made it her mission to not only teach them no magic, but she was also going out of her way to teach rubbish to the entire school.

For starters, all seven years were using the very same textbook. A book you could learn nothing from. The numerous discussed behavior patterns described in the book could have been summed up with, 'Run away and call for help!' Which was in Hermione's opinion indeed what most students should do in case they were attacked.

However, wasting an entire year on this lesson was a bit exaggerated. Especially, since most witches and wizards would do so by default.

The whole matter was considered only a minor bother by Hermione. She already knew the spells, curses, and counter-curses of the fifth year curriculum by heart anyway. She expected, the other students would ultimately face huge problems at the end of the year tests and thus would ensure she'd get a more competent teacher next year. Meanwhile, this mess was Dumbledore's and the Hogwarts governors' problem – and that of the students in question. Her own O.W.L. was not in danger.

Unfortunately, Harry was making problems. He was kind of clever about it but only in a very superficial manner. He had made it his mission to show how repetitive and useless the book was. He had chosen to do so in the class of the witch who had chosen it for her course.

He would start any lesson by doing as he was told. He would flip his book open like everybody else and he would read the assigned chapter. Hermione glanced at Harry's parchment. Her boyfriend even took proper notes!

She knew this was only the calm before the storm. The moment of confrontation came closer with every passing minute...

Harry raised his hand.

Hermione suppressed a sigh and stealthily swapped the book she had been reading and taking notes on against the one she was supposed to work on.

While doing so she let her eyes swipe over the class. Some of the other students were already looking back and forth between Umbridge and Harry. They were clearly anticipating the show. They had grown tired of the dull lesson they were supposedly learning and thus willing to embrace any distraction offered to them. Maybe, if Umbridge had allowed them to chat, the other students would have been less interested in Harry's antics. But as it was, he had the class' undivided attention pretty soon.

Only once most of the class had stopped working, Umbridge choose to take notice of Harry, "Do you have a question, Mr. Potter?"

Hermione glanced at Harry's notes again. Little question marks littered his notes. It was way too easy to point out problems one might run into while following the advice of their less than stellar book.

"Yes, I do." Harry's first inconvenient question was, "What should we do if there is no magical shop or magical office close by where we can run to?"

Umbridge glared at him. Her voice had a high and sweet pitch, "Those are just examples, Mr. Potter." She looked down at her own book. One of her short fingers pointed at a line, "The text advises 'to hide in a safe place!' These two are just the most obvious examples. There are a lot more. I'm sure even you can think of some."

Hermione had to begrudgingly acknowledge that Umbridge had gotten better at handling Harry's consistent questioning of their textbook. Today, she had even anticipated Harry's first question.

Harry was far from done. His hand was up before Umbridge had finished.

Their Professor played her usual game of ignoring him. However, Harry waited stoically until she had to acknowledge him yet again, "What stops the misled wizard who is supposedly trying to rob me from following me into the shop I fled into?"

This was only the beginning. Harry asked pointed questions which Umbridge answered superficially.

The real catastrophe only took place once Harry started bringing Karkaroff into the field. Fudge had in his over-eagerness not only labeled the former headmaster of Durmstrang as the one being guilty of the manipulation of the Portus Charm on the Triwizard Cup. He had publicly called him a mad wizard who had aimed at killing Harry in a futile attempt to avenge his former master.

Since Karkaroff was still at large, Harry could say things like, "What should we do if Karkaroff sends blasting curses after us? Isn't there a way to protect us from that kind of spell?"

The answer to these kind of questions was painfully obvious! However, Umbridge was unwilling to budge. And while Hermione questioned whether their latest professor could have given them useful advice if she had wanted to, she could have taught them the Shield Charm at the very least.

By the end of the lesson, even a fool could see that Umbridge was close to snapping. Her face was a mask and even her faked sweetness was peeling away. She was glaring openly at Harry. Hermione could only guess that she was trying to think of something to shut Harry up.

The bell saved the day. Their Defense lesson came to an end. Hermione waved her wand and summoned all their stuff into her own satchel before she took Harry's hand hostage and abducted him to an abandoned classroom. She ignored his calls of protests.

They had barely entered when Harry snapped, "What's the meaning of this?"

Hermione finished casting a few privacy charms before she put her hands on her hips, "I could ask you the same!"

"No! What's this supposed to mean?" Harry held his palm right in front of her face. It was his left one. The one Hermione had dragged him by. His skin was showing four red imprints. They were unmistakably caused by fingernails. One drop of blood was slowly crawling along his lifeline.

The witch heard herself blurt, "Sorry!" She grabbed his wrist and waved her wand while mumbling the basic healing spell. Once done, her thumb traced over his palm to make sure his skin was unscathed. She tried to smile apologetically when her brown eyes sought out his green ones. Her voice was soft but insistent, "I just wanted you to stop arguing with her."

"But I did not want to stop arguing her!" Harry explained firmly, "She's been lecturing us for almost a month now and so far she taught us nothing." He made a sharp gesture with his free right arm to stress the point. "I looked through her book. It's not worth the paper it's written on let alone the money we spent on it! No curses, no jinxes, not even a single spell is explained in there. She is not planning on teaching us anything!"

"I know, but..."

"And it's even riddled with stupid mistakes or stretches of the truth. It's so easy to point multiple things out each and every hour!" he complained bitterly. "Even from my limited experience, I can tell that the author has never been in an actual fight or even talked to someone who was!"

Hermione heard and saw how frustrated Harry was. For once, her mouth was faster then her thoughts, "And you think she'll change her mind if you're annoying her at every opportunity?"

Her boyfriend opened his mouth. He blinked in bewilderment at her. "This is not about her!"

"Really, so who is this about then. The other students? You could talk to them any time you wanted to. Umbridge's class stands for itself. The other students are bored silly – they are just waiting for you to make a scene."

"They are?" asked a flabbergasted Harry.

"Yes! So, please, stop making one?" Hermione requested hopefully, "It's not doing any good anyway."

Harry shook his head. "You were the one who pointed out that she wanted to take over the entire school. Don't you remember? It was right before our very first lesson with her..."

"I remember that quite well." Hermione said in a sour voice in regret over wasting her breath on that speech for the second time.

"Well, she won't be able to take over Hogwarts if she can't even handle Defense!"

Hermione groaned, "These two things are not linked to each other. It will be the Ministry's doing if the school becomes part of the newly founded Department for education. And they will then promote Umbridge. Her reputation among the students or even staff will be of no concern to the Minister."

Harry deflated somewhat.

"So, will you stop provoking Umbridge?" Hermione tried to softly push Harry in the right direction.

He answered defiantly, "Not until she starts teaching us magic!"

"There is no way she'll change her mind." Hermione lost her composure for a moment and snapped, "I even just told you why she couldn't care less about your rebelliousness!"

Harry folded his arms defensively in front of his chest. "And what do you suggest we should do?"

Hermione tried to sell her opinion with a smile, "How about nothing?"

"We can't sit idle!" Harry turned around and stepped up to a window overlooking a courtyard. "That despicable toad is teaching us nothing. I mean this can't be alright for you either." He whirled around. His green eyes stared piercingly at her, "Learning the book by heart is going to be an easy Outstanding, but that's not what you're aiming for is it?"

"No, it's not," Hermione confirmed with a sigh.

However, before she could explain herself Harry went on, "So you are with me on this!"

This statement really puzzled Hermione, "With you on what?"

"My plan!" Harry stretched the word.

Hermione blinked in surprise when had Harry hatched a plan? "Which plan?"

"We need to confront Umbridge and show her that we're not okay with her way of teaching Defense!"

"Confront her?" Hermione echoed. This was his plan? "The Defense lessons are not meant to be a forum for an exchange of opinions – especially not about methods of teaching! Umbridge is the teacher. You're the student. You'll get nothing done by annoying her. She'll just use her authority to shoot you down in flames. All your efforts will come to naught!"

Harry frowned at her. Disapproval laced his every word, "So you're not going to support my plan?"

"Okay... Wait... Just one moment!" Hermione forced herself to calm down. "Before I decide whether I want to participate, you have to tell me your plan in detail."

Harry gave her a curt nod, "We'll confront Umbridge about her way of teaching. I mean, she taught us nothing so far. Ideally, I want her to admit that she is not planning on teaching us anything. Naturally, she is too clever to do so but the others will eventually realize that I'm right."

"Okay." Hermione wondered how Harry thought this could actually work. "You have means. And you have a goal. That's important. A plan includes means to reach a goal." There was no nice way of saying this. But she would try anyway, "Sadly, your means are only going to conclude in making Umbridge angry. You'll never reach your goal with them. Even if all of our classmates support you. There would be" The mental calculation was easy for Hermione, "eleven other classes who are oblivious to your endeavor."

Harry blinked at her. "But we can't let her proceed in this manner!"

"Why not?" Hermione asked disarmingly.

"Because she is teaching us nothing. I thought we had agreed on that point!" Harry snapped.

"So this is only about the stuff you are supposed to learn this year?" Hermione asked cautiously. "You and I, we can go over the things you need to know for our O.W.L.s. Just like last year." She smiled encouragingly.

Harry frowned, then smirked, "And how do you know what will be asked?"

That was a clever question. However it was easy to answer for a prepared witch, "The Ordinary Wizard Level is a standardized test. There is an Educational Decree that defines the proficiency which needs to be shown to gain an O.W.L. in Defense against the Dark Arts – and all other courses for that matter. The decree lists the knowledge and practical abilities. We can use that or even the handbook for the members of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for preparing."

Harry stared with wide eyes at her. "Isn't that cheating?"

"No, it's not." Hermione huffed. "The Educational Decree summarizes everything we are supposed to learn. It doesn't explain what will be asked in the actual examination."

Harry hesitated. "That would be a lot of work... besides Umbridge is supposed to teach us."

"You can read up on the theory in Defense. And practicing the spells should be no problem for you. Last year, you managed to learn various spells on your own." Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "The Bubblehead Charm is actually harder than anything you're supposed to learn this term. We'll manage."

At first, Harry looked thoughtfully at her. But his face grew stony and instead of accepting her offer he said, "Umbridge is supposed to teach us these things."

"And Snape is supposed to teach us Potions." Hermione snapped at her stubborn boyfriend. "How much has he taught you in the past four years? Do you expect to pass your O.W.L. in Potions? And if you do, will that be thanks or despite of Snape teaching the class?"

Harry was flabbergasted for the second time, "We're brewing in Potions." He pulled a face at his almost defense of Snape. "He is a lousy git but at least he does not teach us rubbish."

"He is teaching us exactly nothing. He makes us brew Potions by a recipe out of a book or from the blackboard. Everything you've learned in Potions was due to your experiences and your own efforts on your assignments." Hermione took a deep breath. "Look, I don't want to defend either of them. But Umbridge's book is not wrong. The best thing for the average wizard when facing a Dark Wizard is to run away and call for help."

"You can't agree with her!" Harry exclaimed enraged. "What she's doing is wrong! She's preventing us from learning anything."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. It was indisputable, their discussion was getting them nowhere. Harry was obviously not going to change his mind and share her perspective. She took a closer look at him. His shoulders were squared and his face displayed his determination.

While his dissenting opinion was anything but welcome the hardness in his eyes was not. It made her skin tingle pleasantly and was tempting her to indulge into... things. Sadly, there was no time for that kind of detour. The sooner, she stopped this the better. But he did not want to and she was in no position to make him. On first glance, it was an unsolvable problem.

Maybe she was looking at this from the wrong angle? She had to stop Harry's pointless attempts at confrontation. But maybe she didn't have to stop his attempts completely? She could try to redirect him onto a more promising course. "Look, if you want to do something about Umbridge, you have to do it in the right way."

Harry was perplexed. Hermione realized that he had obviously not expected her to give in. He asked cautiously, "And what is the right way?"

"You have to raise a complaint at her superior." She should have thought of this before! It had not worked when she had tried. But Harry might succeed where she failed. His name carried weight and people... liked was probably the wrong word... were interested in him!

Harry's mouth fell open.

"I suggest you talk to McGonagall first. She is our Head of House and conveniently the Deputy Headmistress." Hermione rushed to say, "She won't be able to do anything. But she might give you advice on how to proceed. Next in line is the Headmaster. Then the Hogwarts governors. The highest authority is the Wizarding Examinations Authority."

Harry still stared slack-jawed at her. Hermione could not stop herself from flicking her finger at his chin. His mouth snapped shut.

"If you want to go this way, you have to stop making trouble in class though." And that was what she might get out of it. "If you appear to complain because of personal reasons, your complaint will be discarded without a second thought."

Harry nodded albeit begrudgingly, "Yeah, that makes sense."

"And you have to talk to the other students first and check whether they think the same way as you." Now that she had won their argument, Hermione smiled sweetly at her boyfriend, "And it would be even better if not you would complain but the parents of other students. Preferably, well-respected ones. Maybe you'll even find a student who has a relative on the Hogwarts Board of Governors."

Harry's face screwed up while he clearly tried to remember something. "I think someone told me, that he had a relative on the board..." He ruffled his hair. In the end, he frowned discontentedly. "There must be a way to look up who is on the board of governors!"

"I'll check in the library while you're at Quidditch training?" Hermione offered.

Suddenly, Harry hugged her. He whispered, "You're the best!"

Hermione sighed contently. Her boyfriend had finally learned to hug her firmly. She hated to ruin the moment but there was only so much time in between their classes. And most Professors did not believe a witch and wizard when they claimed they were late due to getting lost on their way to class. At least not at their age. Or they had another interpretation of getting lost… like getting lost in the moment. They really had to get going… eventually.

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A/N: I'm really happy that so many people like this story. The numerous reviews and Favs/Alerts mean a lot to me since they express your enthusiasm. Thank you, I appreciate that and it makes me work harder than I would do otherwise. And while I'm at it, I'd like to point at gahmeep who pours considerable efforts into this story as well - thank you too.


	27. Yearning for the Inaccessible

Yearning for the Inaccessible

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Herbology was interesting enough albeit hardly a mental challenge. At least, Hermione thought, one could chat a little bit during the practical lessons. "I'll keep the toothed blossoms at bay, you'll dig it out!"

"Okay!" Harry grabbed his small shovel like a sword.

They were both wearing dragon-hide gloves but their Fanged Geranium had grown rather big. "Next time, we'll use less dragon dung!" The bushy-haired witch exclaimed before she grabbed the bunch of colorful flowers.

"I don't want these plants in my garden!" Harry gasped while using the shovel as a lever to detach the plant from its pot.

Hermione felt herself blush. She hadn't meant it like that at all! Well, maybe Harry hadn't either? She didn't want such a plant in her hypothetical garden either. So what? Sticking to the school's motto 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon!' she decided to redirect their talk at something entirely different.

She could have inquired if more students were coming around in regards to Umbridge. Sadly, that topic was vexing Harry. What could have been a nice cooperative project for the two of them – ousting Umbridge – got ruined by the other students' shortsightedness and laziness! So far most of their peers seemed to welcome the switch to Umbridge's boring take on Defense in comparison to Moody's rather unsettling lessons.

Coincidentally, there was something else she wanted to talk about anyway, "Maybe you'd like to tell me why you're constantly yawning?"

Harry hurried to close his mouth. "It's nothing." He grinned at her to make a point, "I'm fine."

"Are you sleeping alright?"

"Yes, I am," Harry said in a slightly annoyed manner.

Sometimes Harry could really drive her up the wall. Hermione thought that two could play this game! "Well, there has to be a reason for your constant yawning." The witch declared and asked in a snappish tone, "Am I that boring?"

That question easily set off all of Harry's alarms. She could see it on his face. He blurted, "No! You're not boring at all!"

Hermione knew compliments were incoming but she was on a mission and therefore preferred to not get sidetracked, "So what is it then?"

Still glad that he had evaded a misunderstanding, Harry yielded, "I guess, I didn't sleep that well after all."

"Really?" The witch rolled her eyes, "And why?"

Her boyfriend shrugged his shoulders, "It's nothing."

Hermione glared at Harry. He was an awful liar. "It's not nothing! You're yawning. You're hardly concentrating. And you had dozed off twice this week when I returned to the common room. I want to know what the problem is?"

For a short moment, Harry looked thoughtfully at her but the moment ended. Instead of answering her, he shoveled fresh soil – and too much dung! – from the compost into the new and bigger pot of their Fanged Geranium.

"I mean, we could brew you a mild sleeping potion with the ingredients out of our potions kit. But I need you to talk to me!"

Her offer had an impact on Harry. Once more, he looked at her in that thoughtful manner. He forwarded another piece of information, "I had a dream." He said this in a tone that clearly told her that he would like to drop the subject,

But Hermione was beyond dropping this. She had done so before, "Nightmares?" She probed incredulously, "You had no problems with sleeping last year – did you?"

"It's not a nightmare!" Harry added testily, "I'm not a little child anymore."

"Okay, no nightmare." Hermione rolled her eyes, he was certainly acting like a little child right now. "So you had a bad dream then?"

Harry huffed but refrained from answering otherwise. In the end, he shook his head in denial.

"So. What kind of dream is plaguing you?"

"Doesn't matter."

It was Hermione's turn to huff, "You were able to maintain a normal sleeping routine while participating in the Triwizard Tournament – while you were literally fighting for your life! And this year a nightma-" Harry glared at her. "Fine! … a bad dream keeps you awake?"

"I did not say, it was a bad dream," Harry grumbled reluctantly.

Finally, she was making progress! What kind of dream would keep you awake at night? "Not a bad dream?" Suddenly, Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm yet again, "Oh!" She whispered hesitantly but oh so curiously, "What were you dreaming about?"

Harry's sigh admitted defeat, "There is this corridor..." For a second Hermione felt herself grow even hotter but when it became apparent that she was not going to become a part of her boyfriend's retelling of his dream she felt her blood return where it belonged.

"You dream about a door at the end of a corridor that you want to open?" Hermione was kind of surprised over the offended tone of her voice.

"Um, yes." Harry looked in alarm at her.

At least, he had noticed her tone! However, his puzzled expression gave away that he had no idea why she was displeased. Hermione asked irritably, "And because of such a dream you can't sleep?"

Harry nodded vehemently, "Yes!"

She really tried to keep her temper in check but her traitorous voice still sounded rather briskly, "What's behind the door?"

With a surprising amount of frustration, Harry exclaimed, "I don't know!"

Hermione wondered, why a stupid door at the end of a gloomy hallway was keeping her boyfriend awake? "What do you expect to be behind that door?"

"I really have no idea."

"What do you want to be behind that door?" She poked his chest, "It's your dream."

"I already told you that I don't know!" came the frustrated answer.

"Yes, you did." The witch grumbled, "But I was asking what you desire to be behind that door? Like in your subconsciousness." Hermione felt herself frown, why was it even important what Harry dreamed about? It was certainly not like she wanted him to dream about doing naughty stuff with her!

"I really don't know." Harry sighed, "And that's what's unsettling me because I desperately want to know!"

"Well, it can't be that hard to figure out," Hermione stated resolutely. "First you have to narrow its nature down. Just figure out what you desire. Is it an object? Is there something you want to possess?"

"No." Harry frowned, "I think Sirius would be more than happy to buy me anything. And even if he was not, I could probably buy anything by myself."

Which was a correct statement as long as Harry didn't desire to buy the city of Edinburgh. Hermione had seen with her very own eyes how much gold piled in his vault. "Okay, so it's not an object." Her hair tumbled into her face when she nodded too sharply. "Maybe it's something else. Something that can't be possessed. Something like an idea or desire or something that can only get awarded."

Harry groaned, "You're talking about me not being made a Prefect? Again?"

"Well..." She had not intended to but it was a point to consider.

"Listen, I've really got no desire to be a prefect! I watched Ron. It's a nightmare!" He started counting on his fingers, "You have to make all those rounds late in the evening. You're supposed to make everyone behave and report every break of the rules to the teachers. And the icing on the cake is they don't even want to get those reports from you! The only ones showing even a modicum of respect to the prefects are the First Years. But they're timid anyways. All you have to do is bark at them and they'll be running. If you try to tell the Slytherins off, they'll just point at their own prefect." Harry huffed, "I told you before I couldn't care less that I've not become a prefect."

"If it is not about that, what else are you dreaming about?"

Once more those beautiful green eyes took a long look at her. At first, it was really nice but soon Hermione felt increasingly uncomfortable under the gaze. She was about to snap at Harry when he took stock of the greenhouse.

Reflexively, Hermione followed the given example. Most of the other students were still wrestling with their plants. Those already done were chatting in pairs among themselves. Harry surprised her by waving his wand. He cast a simple charm that would stop people from overhearing them.

Harry whispered mysteriously, "Maybe it's nothing that I want."

Enough was enough! Hermione hissed, "What are you talking about?"

For the first time, Harry answered without hesitation, "I've got a secret."

That much was obvious! "A secret? What kind of secret?"

"I'll tell you if you promise me to keep it a secret!"

"You want me to swear a magical oath?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Harry's head shook in the negative, "I just want you to keep it a secret."

If he wanted to make her curious, he had succeeded! "My lips are sealed."

Harry nodded affirmingly, "Once I had a vision of Voldemort. I saw him in my sleep. I was looking at him like I'm looking at you right now. He was issuing orders to Peter Pettigrew."

"The wizard I killed?" Hermione asked without thinking about it.

Harry squeezed her hand. Did he think she needed reassurance?

"The very one." The black-haired wizard said softly, "And while this reoccurring dream is different in some ways it still feels like the other one. I think I can take a look at Voldemort's mind. I think he is brooding about that door every night."

"In your previous dream you were looking at Voldemort" Hermione emphasized the word 'at' to make the angle of her question clear, "while he was doing something?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, "I saw him from the perspective of another person. In the dream, he was in that disfigured baby-like state I saw in the graveyard."

Hermione shook her head, "Just to get this straight. There is a branch of magic called Legilimency. It's the closest to what you and I would refer to as reading someone's mind." Hermione informed her boyfriend, "But it only works if you're looking straight into someone's eyes."

She took a deep breath to steel herself and went on, "What you're describing, on the other hand, sounds like a form of divination. It could be either Oneiromancy – which is basically seeing things through dreams. Or you might experience a subform of scrying. Oneiromancy is traditionally aimed at the future. While scrying can show the past and present too and most importantly can be directed consciously."

"Me? Seeing the future?" Harry shook his head vehemently. "That's ridiculous!"

Not for one second did Hermione really believe that her boyfriend was capable of foreseeing the future. The thought that he might be capable of divination was ridiculous. He was living in the here and now and was a down-to-earth person. He was, by all means, a prime example of what was described as a 'blocked person' in the literature. In that regard, he was just like her. "Or it's just a plain and completely normal dream that keeps you awake."

"Maybe this dream is just some weird... nightmare. But what about that other time, when I saw Voldemort issuing orders? I know that his orders were executed."

"There is a night for every day. It could be a coincidence. Or a twisted metaphor created by your subconsciousness." Hermione shrugged her shoulders in a who-knows gesture. "You were a baby when Voldemort killed your parents. And Pettigrew was the one who betrayed them."

Harry stared silently at her while he tried to come to a conclusion, "So you mean to tell me that of all the people in the castle Professor Trelawney is the one who could help me?"

If he asked her like that, Hermione felt like saying no - very vehemently. Trelawney was by definition the very last person who could help anybody. "I doubt that she can be of help to you. But you shouldn't let the chance slip either."

Harry ruffled his unruly hair. "O-kay. I'm a little lost here. What exactly are you trying to tell me?"

Hermione felt like saying 'Good question!' but refrained from doing so. She stalled, "I'm trying to give you advice." She knew what she wanted to tell Harry. The question was should she? She felt confident that he could ignore this dream. But his explanations roughly matched some things she read about. There was a chance – albeit a slim one – that he might have actually had an insight into the future. And even if it turned out, that he was not a seer he could still profit from dealing with his nightmare. And this was a chance to distract him from his fruitless campaign against Umbridge.

"I figured that part out. But what exactly is your advice?"

Hermione wasn't sure about that herself. She could only make him aware of his options. He would have to choose on his own which way to pursue, "If you're certain that it's not a normal dream, you should ask Trelawney. But don't ask her about scrying in general! She'll just use that as an excuse to look into her crystal ball and interpret the reflection into a woolly prediction which won't help you at all. You have to find out whether she can scry for the present or past. There is a simple test for this. Tell Trelawney that you lost your favorite photo of your mom – you know which one. Make teary eyes and ask her whether she can find it's current location with scrying."

"That's possible?" Harry asked flabbergasted.

"Just think of it as another form of the Summoning Charm."

"Is that even divination then?" Harry asked curiously.

"Scrying the present or the past is, in fact, the most productive form of divination known to wizards and witches." Hermione explained, "You need talent for it though. But that's true for all branches of divination. If one is born without the talent, one can only hope to make predictions by looking for signs. But that is tedious and prone to errors which is saying a lot because even real prophecies are not easy to interpret."

Harry goggled at her, "There is a difference between predictions and prophecies?"

Hermione frowned at her boyfriend. "You're supposed to take your O.W.L. in Divination next term! How can you be unaware of the differences between predictions and prophecies?"

"Um?"

"Why are you even bothering to show up in Trelawney's class?" Hermione snapped.

"I should probably try harder..."

Hermione could not stop herself from huffing, "You should just stop bothering at all for Divination!"

Harry winced, "But I need two elective courses."

"Just take your O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. Since you were raised by Muggles, Professor Babbling is most likely to accept a request for switching."

"Would she?"

How could he be so ignorant? "Sure! You're the Boy-Who-Lived. If you pass an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies, that would be a huge boon for the standing of her course! She will probably not even ask you to prepare a presentation about an important Muggle item."

Harry ruffled his hair sheepishly. "Um... So what about the scrying?"

"You have to find out whether Trelawney can scry. It should be easy to scry the photo of your mom because of your emotional attachment to it and the limited area she has to search for it. If she is not, you'll have to check the library about scrying."

"And what if my dreams are not scrying but O..nomancy?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew that not all people had her memory. But keeping a single word in your mind for a few minutes was simple – wasn't it? "The word is Oneiromancy. If that is what you're doing, Trelawney won't be of any help. You'll have to check the library anyways. There are literally thousands of prophetic dreams listed in books about Oneiromancy and in which way they became true. The Sumerians started listing them five thousand years ago."

Harry goggled once more at her.

And rightfully so! Hermione shuddered over the thought of five thousand years of taking notes about dreams.

"So, I'm a Seer now?"

Hermione felt her brow twitch, "I doubt that." Very grudgingly she added, "But you're a wizard. Sometimes even regular wizards can gain insights into the future. I mean that's what Divination is about. Enabling you to make vague and useless predictions."

"That's just... weird." Harry shook his head in disbelief, "When I do my homework I'm expected to actually make predictions about the future?"

"You're supposed to identify and interpret the omnipresent omens." Hermione explained sourly, "Which will just be nonsense or rubbish for most witches and wizards but for a few..."

Harry blurted, "Like me?"

Hermione glared hard at him, "...it works."

After falling into a thoughtful silence for a few moments Harry wondered, "How do you know all these things? You were never in Divination."

"I read a few books about divination in the second year. And I visited Trelawney to check whether she was an actual seer. If she had had practical knowledge, I would have considered her class but since she is just a wannabe..." She shrugged her shoulders disparagingly.

"Um... I hate to break this news to you but Trelawney is a real seer." Harry said warily. "I heard her making an actual prophecy once. We were alone in her classroom. Her voice became scratchy and deep. Once she was done, she coughed and couldn't remember a single word she had just said."

"Really?" Hermione asked doubtfully. "Maybe she just made the incident up. What did she tell you?"

"Um... She said... Let me think about it... She said... I can't remember her actual words. She said something about Voldemort's servant being freed and that he'd return to his side." Harry scratched his head. "Which really happened, Pettigrew returned to Voldemort after he was captured by Remus and Sirius. However, Snape attacked Sirius and Pettigrew then managed to escape."

Hermione's first impulse was to dismiss the incident. She had to remind herself that Divination was a real thing in the Magical World. It was just very inexact. "Maybe," She shrugged her shoulders, "Or Trelawney got lucky. She's spouting so much nonsense nobody remembers. Even a broken clock is right twice a day."

Once Professor Sprout closed their lecture, they were done with classes for the day. Harry accompanied Hermione to the library.

On the way, they talked about the topic Hermione had tried to evade all day. Harry was not really making progress about Defense on the other students. He had garnered that most of their classmates were of the opinion that Karkaroff had already left the country. Others claimed he was no Sirius Black and would never manage to enter the castle if he dared to try which they doubted on principle.

Since Harry was set on not asking Trelawney for help. Hermione showed him to the shelves containing the books about Oneiromancy. It was only a small collection for the standards of this special form of divination.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Harry exclaimed. "That are easily more than a hundred books!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I told you the Sumerians started writing down dreams five thousand years ago. This is only a small excerpt of what has been written down on the matter."

Harry pulled one tome randomly out of the shelf and flipped it open at the beginning to read the table of contents.

"There is a reason why I told you to start on scrying." Hermione nagged him.

After twenty minutes of checking the summaries of different books, Harry sighed in defeat, "See you in the common room?"

Hermione had already stacked her table with a dozen books. "Sure. Once the library closes."

Harry kissed her temple and left her to her favorite activity.

Hermione could completely immerse herself in studying but it had become second nature to her to always stay aware of her surroundings. When roaming the corridors, her eyes kept track of the students around her. It was a result of her accumulated experiences with her peers in the Muggle and Magical world alike. She'd been an outcast there and here for the same two reasons. She was too clever for her peers' liking and too stubborn to hide it.

Her school experience was tainted by boys making a sport of yanking her unruly hair while the girls bad-mouthed her look or singsonged that she was a teacher's pet. And at the end of a day, there was always the chance of ending up with chewing gum in her tresses. Due to her innumerable bad experiences, Hermione preferred to retreat. In the muggle world, her home had been her proverbial castle.

When the Weasley twins had started bullying her at Hogwarts. They had been more refined than their predecessors. They had not taken turns pulling her hair until she started crying. No! They had used magic and potions to humiliate her.

Thus Hermione had once more been in need of a hiding spot. That's how in the actual castle the library had become her shelter. Madam Pince was always present and demonstrated a complete lack of leniency. Even the twins didn't dare to breach the rigid rules of the librarian.

For a while, Hermione had feared that she had only switched her whereabouts and nothing would ever change for her. The day when she had bested the twins for the very first time had changed her outlook in life completely. Being capable of making her bullies pay tenfold was exhilarating. Learning became even more satisfying than ever before!

However, she never forgot how it all started. That she always had to be on edge. Always wary. That was another reason why she loved the library. It was so quiet that it was rather easy to keep track of her surroundings.

All she needed to do was cast the Nosco Charm, which was one of the easier charms used in Sneakoscopes. It got triggered by silently approaching people. Hermione cast it routinely when she sat down at her favorite table in the library.

When her little surveillance charm got triggered Hermione had a few seconds. She looked up. Through a gap between two bookshelves, she spied the unmistakable pink of a certain witch.

Hermione waved her wand and summoned two books into her satchel which she had borrowed from the Restricted Section. That was all she could do in the short warning time.

In only a few weeks Umbridge had managed to develop a reputation on par with Severus Snape – which spoke volumes of her disruptive behavior!

Much like the Potions Master, Umbridge had favorites. At first glance, she seemed to favor Slytherins as much as the Head of the Slytherins but Hermione was a keen observer and soon discerned that was not true. She was shunning a few Slytherins while also favoring members of other houses.

Unsuccessfully, Hermione had tried to figure out whom the squat witch preferred only to one day overhear Lavender and Parvati gossiping about the obvious solution. Umbridge granted preferential treatment to the children of high ranked ministry officials and tose who had ties to the Wizengamot.

For the time being, it was all the same to Hermione. She was happy about getting ignored by the pink pest.

Hermione replaced her wand with her quill to not give away that she had noticed the other witch. However, her wand was placed easily accessible, right in between the book she was bending over and the parchment she was currently writing her notes on.

The most feared sound in Hogwarts sounded, "Hem-hem!"

Hermione acted like she was startled.

On the opposite side of her table Dolores Umbridge tried to tower menacingly over her table. Her grin was anything but sweet. "You look to be quite busy, Miss Granger." The grown-up but rather small witch said sugary sweet.

"Indeed, I am," Hermione answered tersely.

"What are you reading my dear?"

Hermione lifted the book in front of her with visible reluctance so Umbridge might read its title.

A frown fell onto the face of the older witch, "I can't imagine why you're reading that one?" The wrinkles on her forehead became deeper, "In fact, I can't even imagine a class you would need such knowledge for." Umbridge wondered aloud, "Why is such a book even in a school library in the first place? It goes beyond what any student is supposed to learn."

"Knowing more is better than knowing less," Hermione stated firmly.

Umbridge shook her head and made a tut-tut sound. "That's not true my dear. Some things are better forgotten."

Hermione was of the opposite opinion but bit the tip of her tongue. She would not start a useless argument!

"You have an awful lot of books." Umbridge let her gaze wander demonstratively in a very slow motion over the entire table. More than half a dozen books lay around flipped open and even more were stacked in two towers. Slips of parchment marked places in their midst where Hermione had discovered useful references. "Looks quite complex to me. What are you doing Miss Granger?"

"I'm studying magic."

"What kind of magic?" When Hermione missed the short moment to answer the question instantly, Umbridge added another one, "And for which purpose?"

"To sate my curiosity."

"That's all you're doing?" Umbridge asked in pointed disbelieve. "This" she gestured at the table laden with books about magic, "does not look like some random idle reading to pass a bit of time. You only need one book for that. This looks like you have a purpose like you are aiming to do something. Like research!" She pronounced the word like it was something bad!

Hermione blinked. Her Occlumency was in place. Umbridge had to be making guesses.

"What are you researching Miss Granger." The witch snapped suddenly without a hint of sweetness. "What is it?"

"Nothing but knowledge," Hermione answered fully aware that there was nothing to prove her wrong on the table.

Umbridge declared challengingly, "Knowledge is not to be pursued without reason!"

Brown hair tumbled around Hermione's shoulder when she shook her head. "I'm learning about magic. Nothing less, nothing more."

"I think you're lying Miss Granger. Hand me your notes so I can have a look at them." The witch held out her short fingered hand in a demanding gesture.

Very reluctantly, Hermione handed the parchment over that was conveniently placed under her right hand so she could take notes.

With a self-satisfied grin, the witch looked at the paper.

If Hermione closed her eyes, she could almost see the long list of spells she had just handed over. The first thing noted down was the incantation plus its correct pronunciation. A single letter followed to mark whether it was a spell, charm, jinx or curse. The wand movement and a thorough description of the spell's effects were the next subjects of Hermione's interest. Additionally, she had put down in which tomes she had found her information. And last but not least she wrote always down if there was a dedicated counter-curse or spell.

What Umbridge had to notice first was that all incantations started not only on the same letter but the same syllable. They were in alphabetical order. Umbridge looked bewildered at the list. Whatever she had expected this was not it. "What are you doing?"

Very slowly Hermione said, "I'm listing spells."

Umbridge could not draw her eyes of the parchment. She started reading it. To Hermione's utter shock, she kept on reading and reading for minutes. The long scroll slipped slowly through her short fingers. The despicable witch was obviously set to read the entire list, which was kind of unfortunate since there were a few nasty curses intermixed between mostly harmless spells.

"This is... This is not acceptable!" Umbridge said finally. She had obviously no idea what this was about. "You'll return to your dorm right now."

Hermione frowned, "But the library is still open for three more hours!"

"Not for you!" snapped Umbridge. She looked at the stacks of books. "Go back to your dorm!"

Hermione stood slowly. She picked up her wand. She was surprised that there were no sparks shooting from its tip. Her magic was in a turmoil! And her wand felt almost uncomfortably hot.

It was very hard to not curse Umbridge instantly. This was her place. Her sanctuary! Nobody bullied her here. Hermione did not dare to open her mouth and ask for her parchment. She might have lost it and cursed the other witch.

She was nearly gone when she heard another, "Hem-hem."

The Gryffindor stopped but did not turn around. She couldn't. She was not certain what she'd do.

"Miss Granger?" Umbridge's voice had regained its sick sugary quality, "Until further notice, you're banned from the library."

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A/N: The beta-reading of gahmeep improved this chapter a lot.


	28. Ploys and Machinations

A/N: Thanks for your patience!

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Ploys and Machinations

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When Hermione had made an appearance in the Gryffindor Common Room Harry had been delighted. And when she had asked him to accompany her to the library for 'learning', he had followed her with a spring in his step. He had very much expected to end up in an empty classroom doing... stuff. Thus the young Gryffindor was very disappointed when he discovered that library had actually meant library.

A thick tome hovered obediently to Hermione's library table. "This is the book, I've been talking about."

The confusion must have shown on his face because Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Did you listen to me at all?"

"I certainly did!" Harry answered reflexively. "I... I didn't expect the book to be this thick." Said book had enough pages for three normal books!

Hermione's features softened. "Don't worry about it." She flipped the weighty tome open at a seemingly random spot.

At this point, the only possible conclusion for Harry was that his girlfriend had explained what he was expected to do while she had dragged him out of the common room. When he thought hard he could remember some stray words of her monologue but by far not enough to make sense of them. He had been too preoccupied with daydreaming of doing naughty stuff to her.

Hermione gave him a spare quill and a blank parchment. "Please take care that the page number belongs to the Transfiguration when you use the switching spell to put them in alphabetical order."

"Will do!" Harry promised with a nod. He thanked his lucky star silently. Then he remembered that Professor Trelawney had just recently pointed out how unusual it was for him to have no lucky star. But when he glanced worriedly at the witch next to him, she was busy leafing through another book. She had obviously no idea that he had not been listening to the long-winded explanation she had given him on their way from the common room to the library. He shrugged his shoulders. It wouldn't be the first time Trelawney had been wrong.

Something else happened upon glancing at Hermione. Harry realized that she was not wearing her Gryffindor tie and had undone the two top buttons of her blouse. He could almost see her cleavage... He leaned forward just to curse in the privacy of his mind. The angle was wrong.

Once he was done secretly ogling his girlfriend, Harry focused on the task at hand and started listing spells. He would have really liked to know why he did so but, annoyingly, he could not ask without giving away that he had not listened and lied about listening.

So, instead of irritating his bushy-haired girlfriend, he pretended to know why he was listing... what was this book about? He checked the title: 'The Chronicles of Small Scale Transfiguration'. He decided to write that on top of his parchment.

Over the next half of an hour later, he flipped through the chapters and skimmed the text for incantations without bothering to really read the text. He wrote down one magic formula after the other and used the switching spell repeatedly to restore the alphabetical order.

He was making good progress. He had no idea on what. But the list was growing so he definitely made some kind of progress. Hermione had even nodded in approval over its growing length so it was fine.

It was kind of a reversed roles afternoon. He made notes on an unknown tome while Hermione did her homework. She was currently busy with... he craned his neck... Potions.

He frowned. Usually, Hermione did her homework after the library was closed. At this time of the day, she habitually ignored the no-magic-rule of Madam Pince, hovered a dozen books to her table and flipped through them while she simultaneously took notes from all of them. She would smile happily all the while. Instead of following her routine, she grimly wrote the fourteen inches about the Calming Draught Snape had demanded.

When he tried to follow Hermione's example and do homework, she huffed at him, "You promised to do me a favor!"

Since he probably had, Harry resumed being productive albeit in an unsatisfactory way until a faked cough made him cringe, "Hem-Hem,"

Looking up, he found his least favorite witch standing at the head of their table. A gleeful smile was on her lips. "Good afternoon, my dears." She glanced at Harry but it was Hermione whom she was focused on and whom she spoke to, "Miss Granger, what are you doing here?"

"Good afternoon, Professor," Hermione answered in a polite voice that bordered on mocking. She tapped the cover of her book, "I'm writing an essay for Professor Snape."

"You're doing homework?" Umbridge made a tut-tut sound. "I thought I made myself clear my dear?" Their so-called Professor smiled smugly. "The library is off limits for you."

Harry gasped. That had to be the reason for his girlfriend early return to the common room the previous night. He focused on listening so he wouldn't miss essential information again.

Umbridge's voice slipped into a caustic tone, "I remember telling you that you were no longer allowed to loiter here."

Harry bristled. His girlfriend was not loitering! And definitely not in the library. He was about to speak up when something hit his shin. Hard. He produced a very unmanly sound. Both witches looked at him. One was confused. The other glared. Harry waved his hand, "Stubbed my toe."

Hermione pulled a small scroll of parchment out of her satchel. "I've got permission." At the correct volume for a library and with a bare minimum of triumph in her own voice, she delivered the killing blow, "My Head of House signed it. I'm allowed to use the library during the opening hours to do my homework. Furthermore, I'm also allowed to study the magic made accessible in the library to all the students at my very own discretion. Please, feel free to check its validity."

Umbridge snatched the parchment, unrolled and read it.

The scales fell from Harry's eyes. The permit had to be Hermione's reason for arriving late at lunch. He had asked her and she had promised to explain it later. He was growing more and more annoyed about not listening.

Mischievously, Hermione pointed out, "It's signed Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall."

Umbridge's expression darkened with every line she read. Once done, she stared daggers at the younger witch.

"That's an official document. Filed and everything." Hermione said in a prim tone. "Now that you've read it I wouldn't mind if you handed it back to me."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Umbridge rolled the parchment tightly and slapped it into Hermione's palm, creating a quite loud sound.

The younger witch did neither flinch nor falter, "You're welcome, Professor." She pocketed a permission no one else had ever needed.

Umbridge turned and left them behind.

"This is not over," Harry whispered worriedly.

"Not for her but it's definitely over for me," Hermione meticulously folded her essay on the Calming Draught. "Unless the Headmaster overrules our Head of House she can't do anything about this. And I doubt very much that Dumbledore will go against Professor McGonagall."

"Are you sure about that?"

Hermione nodded which made her hair tumble adorably, "Pretty much."

Harry leaned in to give her a small kiss but Hermione had just leaned forward to snatch his parchment. "Did she check what you took notes on?"

"When?"

"Before she read the permission. I thought she was checking your parchment upside down." Hermione turned it so she was looking at it from Umbridge's point of view. "Which is really hard." Her eyebrows crinkled, "You've got a bad scrawl."

Harry said in mock-hurt, "Well, I'd say you write like a girl but that's hardly a comeback."

Hermione snorted in amusement. "No, it isn't!"

"What a cute girlish snort." he teased her, which made her softly swat his shoulder in repercussion. She glared mildly at him.

Harry took the parchment back and proceeded with his task.

He was almost instantly interrupted by his suddenly confused girlfriend, "What are you doing?"

Harry had had no idea what he had been doing all along. He was not going to confess this now that he could finally see light at the end of the tunnel, "Um... I thought..." He glanced at the genuinely puzzled witch next to him.

He finally realized what this had been about all along. Hermione had done homework like anybody else would while he had studied in that abstract way she usually did. But Umbridge had said nothing about him and singled Hermione out instead. "She has it in for you!"

"We definitely proved that." Hermione glanced at the book in front of him and Harry knew that he was not of the hook. She was still curious what he was about to do. "I just wanted to... finish this page. Feels better doesn't it?"

Hermione beamed at him and gave him a peck, "Yes it does!"

When he was done with the current page of the book Harry breathed a secret sigh of relief. He put his parchment so that both of them could take it if they wanted to. Hermione had already put the book about potions aside, he snatched it before she could hover it away. He tried to sound casual, "Which page did you start on for the assignment?"

A tap from Hermione's wand made the book flip open again. Her wand pointed at a short paragraph in the middle of the text. "Start here. That's the most important passage."

Harry did but only after he watched a happy Hermione wave her wand like a maestro to summon a dozen tomes from different shelves to their table.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy thought that only a wizard could come up with such a tacky and crude plan but she had bit her tongue and said nothing about it. Hiding her thoughts had become second nature to her after two decades of doing so.

More than ever feeling like a lackey, she stood in front of the Fireplace. She was waiting for Dolores Umbridge.

A burst of green flames engulfed the entire hearth. Out of their fiery midst stepped a small and stout witch. Narcissa was not surprised over her guest's appearance. For whatever reason, she wore exclusively pink clothes. Always.

Honoring her upbringing, Narcissa curtsied elegantly, "Good evening, Madam Umbridge,"

"Good evening, Lady Malfoy," Umbridge's curtsy was wooden.

Narcissa noticed the other witch take in her appearance. She knew that special expression. She did not twitch or try to correct her pose – it was already perfect. She held her head high, her back straight and her shoulders even. She radiated confidence. She could only guess that Dolores was thinking something unfavorable about her. That was no problem. Narcissa reciprocated in kind. Due to Dolores' clothes, Narcissa would have liked to compare her to a pig but if there was an animal she looked like, it was a toad.

Narcissa had nothing to be ashamed of. She could have even pulled off wearing the loud color Umbridge preferred. Naturally, she would never do so. She did not need to draw people's attention by wearing pink. She knew her enticing body drew more stares than she cared for. For today she had chosen a nicely cut and somewhat revealing dress. It was tasty no matter what Dolores might think or tell whoever had the displeasure of being her personal friend.

After an almost impolite pause, she added in her poshest tone, "Welcome to Malfoy Manor,"

"Thank you for having me," Umbridge tried to display a neutral facial expression.

In Narcissa's opinion, she was not very good at it. Her next words were actually impolite, "It is so nice of you to visit us on such short notice." Narcissa felt her comment was well deserved over inviting herself in the way she had done.

Dolores' lack of facial control showed once more. Her nostrils flared angrily. "I'm sure a hostess of your capabilities was able to make accommodations for an informal meeting of three people."

"I was." Narcissa's smile was showing off her perfect white teeth and hid the fact that she was slightly impressed by the comeback. "Please let me escort you to the wizards." Without waiting for a reply she turned around and strutted away.

Dolores had problems keeping up to the clicking of her heels. Which was more than okay for Narcissa. This way she could pretend Dolores was not here for a moment. Rather than wasting any attention on polite small talk, she considered to not put a new carpet into the hallway. She liked the sound of her heels on the parquet.

Her musings found an end when she softly knocked on a door. "The minister and my husband are waiting for you."

Dolores had no chance of responding as they were almost instantly asked to "Please, step in."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy had barely called for the witches when his wife pushed the door open impatiently. He cocked a questioning eyebrow at her but she ignored him.

Once he had noticed the witch following his spouse he could not turn his eyes away from her. Technically, he was not surprised. He had known Umbridge would be dressed entirely in pink. But he had not realized what that really meant. His mind had failed to imagine what she would look like here.

The furniture in the drawing room was made out of ebony. The armchairs were upholstered with black leather and had metal fittings out of polished silver. There was a lot of silver everywhere because Lucius liked it as much as the tone of green the curtains had. He knew his preference for the Slytherin color scheme made a lot of people roll their eyes but he genuinely liked it and because of it people thought he was easily understood which led them to underestimate him quite often.

While Lucius struggled to get over the optical dissonance Umbridge's presence caused, his wife crossed the entire drawing room. She hinted a curtsy before respectfully announcing Dolores arrival.

They exchanged some polite phrases and Umbridge was invited to sit down on the couch.

During the short exchange, Lucius registered that unlike him Cornelius had no problem ignoring his Undersecretary. His eyes lingered mostly on the witch he should not be looking at too intensely.

Umbridge noticed this too.

Meanwhile, his wife announced in a soft and demure tone, "I'll retreat for the night."

Both wizards stood up and Dolores - who had just taken a seat - jumped up as well.

Lucius pressed a chaste kiss onto his wife's cheek. "Good night my dear."

She reciprocated dutifully but soon turned away to smile at the Minister of Magic. "Cornelius,"

He nodded at her. "It was a pleasure to be your guest - like always." Lucius hid his amused smirk when Cornelius took Narcissa's hand and kissed the back of it.

She giggled coquettishly, "You're an incorrigible charmer!"

Without even acknowledging Umbridge's presence Narcissa left. While Lucius pretended to focus on his wife, he was, in reality, watching the reflection of his female guest in a silver chalice. She had stared in disbelieve at the scene unfolding in front of her.

The Undersecretary was supposed to get the wrong idea about the three of them. Lucius had convinced the clueless Minister that it would be an advantage for them if Dolores thought she had some sort of power in form of a dirty secret over them.

It was his old game of pretending to be cunning - which everyone expected of him - while he did something entirely different. His real objective was to drive a wedge in between the two. It was the classic 'Divide and rule' formula.

Cornelius' eyes were glued on Narcissa's backside. Lucius pretended to not realize this while he stepped aside to refill his glass. A huge silver plate propped up behind the bottles allowed him to watch his guests. Meanwhile, Narcissa made good use of the opportunity to flash an unobserved smile and wink behind his back.

The Undersecretary was incapable of not noticing this. If she had no reason to come to the wrong conclusion by now, he had no idea what would manage to give her the wrong idea.

The Minister gave his faked intent once more away by announcing, "You've got yourself a very fine wife."

"One should only ever settle for the best." The blond wizard drawled arrogantly. He directed his attention to Dolores and asked the question expected of all hosts, "Can I offer you something?" When Umbridge was too lost in thought to answer right away, he suggested, "A Firewhisky? Or maybe a glass of wine?"

The squat witch eyed the collection of bottles sourly. They had met several times before and he knew that she preferred tea with a lot of sugar. However, he was not offering her that particular option. This was an excellent opportunity to make himself look inattentive. Lucius picked a bottle from the very back of the collection, "Maybe a sherry?"

"That would be nice, thank you." She answered with well-hidden reluctance.

He poured a glass for his guest. Umbridge's face gave away that her twisted mind was hard at work. Her thoughts were certainly revolving around how to exploit their little stage show.

They would have to fabricate some clues for her. Maybe some hints about suspicious meetings which she could unearth. They had to act fast though. Without a doubt, Umbridge would screen the Minister's appointment calendar at the earliest opportunity. They could not note down Narcissa's name but a simple N would probably do the trick.

After delivering the drink and once more sitting in his favorite armchair, Lucius raised his own tumbler with Firewhisky. "Cheers!"

Following his - and the Minister's - example, Dolores took a sip of her sherry. When she could not hide her distaste, Lucius subconsciously weighed the pros and cons of offering her tea on his own accord the next time they met.

Cornelius swiveled the remainder of his own Firewhisky and asked offhandedly, "So, you wanted to show us something?"

"Indeed." Dolores nodded sharply. When she placed her drink on a side table and thus out of line of sight, Lucius expertly hid his amusement. A folded parchment appeared out of her pink handbag. "This is the filed original," was exclaimed pompously. "I left an exact replica behind."

Lucius did not even bother to lift his hand. Cornelius already leaned forward. The Minister of Magic skimmed over the filed out form. "This is the original?" he asked to hide the fact that he was not willing to offer his opinion first.

The witch answered like the obedient lackey she pretended to be, "Yes. This is actual evidence."

Without a word of acknowledgment, the piece of parchment was handed over to Lucius who held onto it by a single corner and only with the tips of two of his fingers. He made a special effort to come across not only as disgusted but also effeminate. Umbridge should already be speculating about the reasons why his wife was interested in other wizards. And who was he to deny her one or two? Maybe he'd even wipe his hand on a handkerchief once he handed the parchment back.

"McGonagall is definitely part of Dumbledore's conspiracy," Umbridge declared full of confidence.

Lucius looked closely at the parchment and got instantly disappointed. He had expected something meaningful. But he only held permission for the library in his fingers. He double-checked the parchment. It was not even meant to give access to the Restricted Section. When his eyes reached the bottom of the form, a frown appeared on his forehead. "Dumbledore's signature is missing." He held the parchment out to Umbridge. "McGonagall signed twice."

"Yes, she did." The witch said gravely. "McGonagall signed it Deputy Headmistress and Head of House to show off that she has authority over me in any meaningful manner."

The filled out form returned to the Minister whose outstretched hand demonstrated his desire to take another, closer look. He was flabbergasted, "McGonagall granted her own request?"

Umbridge explained crisply, "That's what I actually wanted to talk about."

This time around, Cornelius actually focused his attention on the parchment. He barked, "In her authority as Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall issued a permit she made as a Head of House? That's..."

"...bad style." Lucius interrupted his acquaintance, "While this is proof of her investment with the mu...ggleborn it's nothing that would get her in trouble. This certainly shows favoritism. But it's one everyone expects from a Head of House."

Umbridge nodded. "That is absolutely right."

Cornelius grumbled, "How can this be right. She shouldn't be allowed to sign twice on the same application form to grant her own requests. This has to be some sort of misconduct!"

"She can do this," Lucius had realized belatedly that Umbridge had not wanted to converse about a piece of information she had come across but about something entirely different: Her authority in comparison to McGonagall. But if she thought she could manipulate this the was she wanted then she was sorely mistaken!

In his role as one of the Hogwarts' governors, he explained, "In accordance to Hogwarts school regulations, McGonagall officially represents two different and independent entities of the school's hierarchy. Three if you count that she's a Professor too."

"But even I can't grant my own requests! And I'm the Minister of Magic." Cornelius half complained and half whined. "I have a budget and anything that goes over it needs approval from the Wizengamot."

Lucius nodded in a way that feigned understanding for the other wizard's hassles. "This way of conduct is unimaginable in the well organized Ministry. However, it has been the way Hogwarts worked for centuries."

"I was not aware the school's regulations were that outdated." Cornelius grumbled, "Why aren't the school governors doing anything about this?"

The development of their little chat was anything but favorable for Lucius. "It's hard to get something done with the current members on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Mr. Nott and Madam Goyle are open to my suggestions. But with witches like Madam Longbottom, we rarely get a majority vote on anything."

Cornelius was really irritated over the plenitude of power McGonagall held, "But how is it possible that she can grant her own requests?"

Luckily, Lucius had an easy answer to that, "To make it short: budget problems. Back in the day, the Head of Houses were not professors and only responsible for the wellbeing of their students. Likewise, the Deputy Headmaster was like the Headmaster not involved in teaching but only responsible for administration. At one point, paying those five salaries became too much of a strain on the upkeep of Hogwarts."

Cornelius grumbled, "You rationalized those jobs and now look what the results are!"

"This is not the doing of the current Hogwarts Board of Governors," Lucius easily defended himself. "We could never agree on something so immersive."

This earned him a dry laugh from the Minister.

Umbridge requested their attention, "Hem-Hem,"

A sigh escaped Cornelius when he turned back to her, "Yes, Dolores?"

"You don't expect me to let this slide, do you? This" She waved the parchment which allowed Granger to use the library theatrically, "is an insult against me and the authority of the Ministry as a whole. It can not stand that my decisions are voided like this. How am I supposed to teach that little upstart her place?"

"What do you mean? Teach her?" Fudge blinked in confusion. "Dolores, I know you're officially a Professor at the moment but we've not sent you to Hogwarts to teach the students."

"But I..."

"No," He interrupted her back talk, "Granger is proof that the current students know way too much about how to defend themselves. We agree on that don't we?"

"Yes, we do. But I was not..."

"We know Dumbledore is recruiting students for his secret organization before they even leave Hogwarts." The Minister of Magic stressed, "As far as we know, he could be doing so right now! You're supposed to find evidence of that. I mean just look at Granger – she should have been dead. What do you think is the reason for her survival? Luck?"

Lucius was sure he knew the answer to that question: Incompetency and Wormtails cowardice. Naturally, he said nothing.

Said person currently shared his personal analysis with them, "She obviously survived thanks to some special training. And what are you doing instead of getting on her and Potter's good side to find out about such things? You're antagonizing them. They won't be a source of information to us like that – will they?"

"No," His subordinate caved in.

It was a pleasure to watch the two of them for Lucius. Over the last years, Cornelius had changed very much. Thanks to his influence, the formerly insecure Minister of Magic was not only measuring his strength with Dumbledore but was dumb enough to make an enemy out of one of his own supporters. He could not help but wonder if the scheme he had set up had been superfluous from the start.

However, Lucius thought, he should defuse the tense atmosphere. After all, they were all on the same side for the foreseeable future. "What we really need are the names of Dumbledore's proteges. So Dumbledore can't place any further puppets in the Ministry." That was the assignment the Dark Lord had given him. He was tasked to cripple Dumbledore's influence of and insight into the Ministry of Magic.

"Potter and Granger," Umbridge said quickly like a shot.

"Obviously." Lucius inclined his head in consent.

"They are up to something," Dolores added hurriedly.

"What do you mean?" Lucius asked in a carefully leveled tone. "Have you found out something about their training?"

"Just this afternoon Granger and Potter were once more listing spells in alphabetical order! Here is the parchment I confiscated the other day." She fiercely pulled a scroll out of her handbag. Lucius made a disgusted face and refused to accept it.

"Dolores," Cornelius sighed in exasperation, "could you please focus less on Granger? I'm tired of your constant - nearly daily - reports about the time she spent in the library." He stressed, "She's not that important. I want you to find proof of the secret training!"

"But she's up to something!"

"She's being punished!" Lucius interjected with a drawl. "Listing spells in alphabetical order sounds like a punishment the old coot would come up with. Learn something while you're being punished."

Cornelius nodded in agreement. "Sounds like Dumbledore,"

Dolores shook her head. "Granger likes nothing better than studying! This qualifies not as punishment for her at all."

Lucius shrugged his shoulders in disinterest. "Maybe it's symbolic?"

"For what should she be symbolically punished?" The witch asked indignantly. "And why would Potter help her?"

Probably since she had looked straight at him, Lucius replied without checking whether the Minister had an answer for either question, "Have you ever considered that she could be punished for giving away that she received secret training? It's even likely that's the reason she's no longer participating in the training. And the answer for the second question is actually rather obvious: Potter was there because of his girlfriend. He was trying to help her compensate for the time your ban lost her yesterday."

"But..."

"Potter is smitten with her!" Cornelius groaned in frustration. "That's the only thing important about her."

Umbridge shook her head vehemently, "We should not discard Granger so easily, she is probably the most clever student since..."

"Stop it!" Cornelius ordered. "It does not matter how clever she is. One of the students at Hogwarts has to have the best grades. Always!" He breathed in deeply to calm himself. "However, that does not mean that we get a new Merlin every seven years. Granger can be as clever as she wants to be. That will mean nothing once she gets out of Hogwarts. Nobody asks about any O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s in the real world. You should know that."

Dolores nodded reluctantly, "There are certainly more valuable virtues."

While that could have meant anything from loyalty to bravery in principle, it actually meant something very different. Lucius smiled knowingly. Both of his guests had gone to great lengths to hide the less desirable branches of their families.

Lucius observed how Dolores put the parchment away which she had confiscated from Granger. He offered, "Maybe we should reconsider our tactic."

Cornelius looked curiously at him. "What do you have in mind?"

"Maybe a little performance review is in order," Lucius explained with his typical drawl. Umbridge stiffened visibly. "Since Dolores is already at Hogwarts and doing a magnificent job of reforming the Defense lectures maybe we could task her with evaluating her colleagues?" This made a smile spread on the witch's face. "Maybe she gets lucky and finds something which I can use on the Hogwarts Board of Governors to fire one or two of Dumbledore's pets. At least she might find out where some peoples allegiances lie. And even if she unearths nothing, the evaluations might be useful to Dumbledore's successor."

Fudge nodded enthusiastically. "A very good plan! How did you come up with this idea?"

"It was kind of forced onto me." Lucius replied modestly, "I've contemplated this since the incident with the Hippogriff."

Cornelius made a solemn face. "Luckily, Draco recovered fully!"

"Yes, luckily."

Cornelius turned to Umbridge and suggested, "You should pay special attention to that oaf Hagrid. He teaches Magical Creatures,"

"I will," Umbridge promised. Lucius watched her closely when she pretended to frown in thought. "...but what am I supposed to do about McGonagall?"

Lucius had been waiting for this question. Once he knew what Dolores wanted, her next move could be anticipated easily. "Nothing at all. While it would be a nice turn of events if you could pin something on McGonagall, I doubt your evaluation will yield that fruit." It was not what Umbridge wanted to hear and he could see it on her face. "Luckily, we don't actually need to bother removing her at all. Once we get rid of Dumbledore and put a new Headmaster in charge she'll have to step down as deputy."

He pointed one of the school regulations out that had been a huge bother in the past, "The Headmaster is not only in charge of hiring the Professors but also of appointing a deputy of his – or her – liking." For good measure, he looked meaningfully at Umbridge. Hopefully, this would keep her from asking for more authority for a while. Her persistence in that regard was starting to annoy him.

"Maybe she'd even like to retire once she gets demoted." Cornelius thought aloud.

That was hard to imagine for Lucius. But, any desire he knew of represented an opportunity he could exploit. All he needed to do was find a way to exploit it in a way that would serve his and the Dark Lord's interests.

* * *

A/N: Today, I've got to take all of the blame for my mistakes. I'm the only one who beta-read this chapter. Feel free to point any blunder out to me. I'll correct them when I post the next chapter.


	29. Arithmancy Tutoring

Arithmancy Tutoring

* * *

A hushed voice could be heard whispering behind a bookshelf. Another one answered giddily. In front of exactly that shelf sat a lone witch with brown hair. She tried to ignore the hushed voices. Everyone could see that she was busy. A huge chart lay in front of her. Symbols and numbers were scattered across it in clusters and obscure patterns. Quite a lot of them had been crossed out and replaced.

A book was consulted by the witch. A thin line appeared on her pretty forehead and grew into a full frown. Next, a sigh escaped her lips. It was shaky and distinctly frustrated. Over the past hour, this had happened way too often for her liking.

Reluctantly, she accepted that this led nowhere. She had wasted almost the entire Quidditch training time. Harry would soon show up. Once he did, the window of opportunity would be closed.

She stood up and folded the giant chart up. There really was no choice. She had to ask for help. And it was better to act now while Harry was not around to witness it. There should be still some time. Training was not yet over and he would still have to shower afterward. Once he had done so he also had to walk from the pitch to the school and all the way up to the library which should take him up to a quarter hour.

After wasting another moment over staring in disdain at a few numbers still visible on the folded parchment, she started gathering her books. So far they had failed her. They had granted her no deeper insight into their knowledge but that was her fault and not theirs.

Once the stuff formerly scattered across the table was in one pile she picked it up and pressed it against her chest. With a deep sigh, she turned for the far end of the library.

It was at the same time the most advanced and technical selection Hogwarts' library housed. Few students ever needed a book stored here. The fact that most of the scripts were especially dull kept students away too.

The silence in this specific collection was almost oppressive to the ears. The witch felt like something was wrong with her hearing - like when she flew too fast on a broom. She swallowed. It had no effect and she realized this was not a bodily problem. The problem was in her mind. This part of the library was just eerie.

Subsequently, she told herself that there was nothing to be worried or even scared about. She was just going to talk to another witch. One she had seen on an almost daily basis for the past four years. Her self-assurances were without effect. Unconsciously, she started tiptoeing through the rows of high shelves.

Most students usually tried to steer clear of this section. The worst that could happen to you when you disturbed the silence around here was… She frowned when she realized that she did not exactly know... but she had no intention of finding out. The only thing certain about the consequences was that the worst around here was not the usual. Everybody had been kicked out by Madam Pince once or twice.

Katie took a deep breath before turning the last corner. She told herself that the persistent rumors were just that - rumors. They had to be. If they were not she was in real trouble because there she sat all alone at a huge table. Most of it was occupied by flipped open books. And some more formed two towering stacks.

The brunette witch had stopped reading and was staring straight at Katie. Taken off-guard, she tried to keep her pile of stuff under control with just one arm while the other gestured awkwardly at the chair next to Hermione. "Hi, is this seat taken?"

Brown eyes darted to the left taking in the empty chair. The gaze returned to Katie within a heartbeat. The two witches stared at each other. A part of Katie wanted to look away but she couldn't.

Only when Hermione's fingers drummed on the table, Katie's almost-petrification broke. She felt her eyes grow comically big when she realized what she saw. A wand was lying on the table - right next to a quill and also right under Hermione's drumming fingers.

Instead of inviting Katie to take a seat, Hermione asked indignantly, "What do you want?"

A rather thin and stuttery voice answered her, "... ask for your help... please?"

"I'm not desperate for friends." Hermione's eyes flashed angrily. Some more words were hissed through her teeth, "I'm not interested. You can go away."

Katie's first impulse was to do as ordered and leave. She had already turned halfway around when she stopped. She had no idea what she was thinking but looking away from Hermione she whispered, "Maybe I am... Desperate that is."

An indignant huff answered her, "What would you be desperate about?"

This was as much as of an invitation to explain herself as she could hope for. Katie hurriedly put her stuff down and unfolded the huge parchment she had been working on just minutes ago. "It's this I'm desperate about." She sat down on the edge of the chair she had gestured at. "I need to become better at Arithmancy."

Hermione fought visibly against it. She glanced back and forth between Katie and the huge parchment. Ultimately her curiosity won and she took a closer look. Katie watched nervously as intelligent eyes roamed over the chart faster than she thought anyone could read.

Without looking up, Hermione huffed in annoyance, "Yes, you do." Her index finger pointed at a row of numbers. "If you're doing integer factorization you have to break everything down into prime numbers."

Katie gasped. The mistake was so obvious, how had it slipped her attention?

Hermione tapped two more numbers.

In a hurry, Katie marked the numbers. "Please, you need to help me with this."

"You need someone's help - not mine." Hermione shook her head. "I'm not the only person who can explain this to you. Go and find someone else. I already told you that I'm not interested."

Katie was not above begging, "Please, Hermione! I really, really need you to help me."

The witch in question made a dismissive gesture. "You're one year ahead of me in Arithmancy anyway."

"In name only!" Katie objected pointing at the huge chart. "You already know what this is about don't you?"

"Listen," Hermione's tone was leveled and it felt more threatening than it actually was, "Why don't you ask some Ravenclaw from your year?"

"You've probably never asked a Ravenclaw for anything. I mean, why should you?" Katie gave Hermione no chance to comment on this, "They're holding endless monologues but they only repeat things they read before. And if you ask them for an explanation they'll just repeat one that's written down in the book they personally favor. I mean in almost exactly the same words."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at her. "And what makes you think I'm different in that regard?"

"Well, if there is someone who really understands the stuff we're supposed to learn it's you." Katie started. "I'm sure if there is someone who can explain these things in her own words it's you."

Hermione still looked doubtful.

"And it would also really help me if you could read over my homework like you sometimes do for Harry. I need better grades on my assignments. And if you would highlight my mistakes as you do for him that would help me so much." Katie took a deep breath before resuming, "And maybe you could even leave those small notes next to the not so obvious mistakes for me in which you explain how it's wrong? That would be a huge help for me too."

For a very long moment, Hermione stared with wide eyes at Katie. Then she snapped, "Who told you about that?" She also leaned forward without any forewarning.

Katie almost fell almost from her chair when she jerked back so their heads would not collide. She squeaked, "Harry told me!"

Hermione sat back into her chair. She blinked in apparent confusion.

For some reason, Katie felt suddenly very nervous. And like always when she was under stress she tried to make everything better by talking, "Harry hasn't told us – no – I mean me very much. He has barely told us – me! – anything at all."

Naturally, Hermione asked the question Katie had tried to avert, "Who is us?"

Katie bit her tongue. Hermione stared. It took only seconds for Katie's nervosity to make her blurt out the answer, "Angelina, Alicia and me," When Hermione's frown grew even worse, Katie hurriedly explained, "But he hasn't told us much. Nothing important at all! I mean, he didn't want to tell us anything at first... but you know what Angelina and Alicia are like!"

The questioning look on Hermione's face was hopefully a good sign. It was definitely preferable to the hard stare. But no matter whether it was good or bad, Katie would have kept on babbling anyway, "I mean it's mostly Alicia. Angelina just goes along with her... but anyway, since the start of the term they grilled Harry at every training session about you. But I swear: He has only told us minor details about you... And really only like once or twice in total!"

"What exactly has he told you?" Hermione asked tersely.

"Just really minor things." Katie rambled, "Like details. Mostly stories what's cute about you... You know?"

"Cute?" Hermione's eyes grew to saucer dimensions.

"Uh-huh," Katie felt her ponytail bounce wildly when she nodded her head. Only when Hermione glowered at her, Katie realized that Hermione was one of those witches who did not like to be called cute. As far as Katie was concerned, there was nothing wrong with being cute. However, she knew some witches did not like that word at all. She instinctively tried to backpedal, "I don't think he actually said the word – you know – cute. That's probably just me."

Hermione goggled at her. "You think, I'm cute?"

Katie wanted to bite her tongue once more but she was already prattling away, "Look, Harry has told us almost nothing. He just likes you and when he talks about you, you can hear it in his voice and see it on his face because he gets that special smile."

A frown on Hermione's face informed Katie that she was not satisfied, Katie blabbered, "He told us totally innocent stuff. You know those little things that make one sigh dreamily?"

"What has he told you?" Hermione asked in horror, "What made you sigh dreamily?"

The way Hermione pronounced dreamily made Katie groan in frustration. She wondered how she could be so dense. Hermione disliked being called cute. If that was not a hint that she was a witch who considered dreamy sighs to be something negative then there were no signs at all.

Katie massaged her temples, trying in vain to stop a building headache. Maybe the best choice of action was a flight forward? Katie tried to say in a firm voice, "Yes, that's what I did. I sighed dreamily. And, Angelina and Alicia did so too. We're that sort of girl. We squeal and we sigh and we're kind of envious because we don't have nice boyfriends who do things we consider to be cute."

"I really don't like to repeat myself. What exactly has Harry told you?" Hermione glowered at her for good measure.

Feeling that her next words were very important Katie kept a firm grip on her proverbial Gryffindor courage and took a leap of faith, "The most private thing Harry has shared with us is that you're uncomfortable about heights and that you always grab his arm a little harder whenever the two of you climb the Grand Staircase."

Hermione's expression was hard to read but Katie thought it was a good idea to smile encouragingly. "Harry is a really nice wizard. There is nothing to worry about. You see, Harry hardly had a choice. He kind of had to explain why his girlfriend wouldn't be watching the match. I mean he had to because Angelina was offering to reserve a seat for you in the front row of the stands for the upcoming Gryffindor match. You know so you would have a good view of Harry. Angelina thought that would be nice. And maybe she thought Harry would play better as well. You know because of seeing you and knowing that you're watching him and so on."

For a very short moment, Hermione looked somewhat mollified. Sadly the moment did not last. "But that wasn't the only thing he told you."

Katie sighed. "No, it wasn't. Harry mentions you like all the time." When Hermione glared at her, Katie added, "Without saying much. He says things like 'Hermione says...' or something like that. And most of the time he just points out that he has a date with you so Angelina won't drag the training out too much." Katie rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, Angelina reminds me of Oliver. She's obsessed with Quidditch!"

Finally, Hermione stopped frowning! A small smile played around her lips. "Harry says that too."

Katie nodded emphatically, "We... I mean the team says that all the time."

Hermione accepted the explanation with a nod so small Katie only noticed it because some of her bushy brown hair shifted.

The mood had changed significantly and Katie hurried to exploit this, "Look, I know what this looks like." She could really understand why Hermione was reluctant. But no matter how much she wanted to leave the other witch alone she couldn't. This was more than important. This was a life-altering matter for her. "I mean, why should you help me. How can you know... I... Out of the blue, I'm asking for your help. We've never really talked before. And there really isn't an apology for that... I mean for this. And I know, I'm pretty much looking like a self-centered and dumb cow right now. And I'm so very sorry about that. I really am! And I wish there was a way to prove I'm not a self-centered cow but there isn't and... and I can only ask for a chance I don't deserve."

Now that she had started explaining herself Katie didn't dare to stop. She had thought about this particular moment for more than two weeks and all those thoughts broke free, "It's just... you know..." She squirmed on her chair. "You were already kind of scary when you were a first year. You hexed Fred and George... And I mean I'm in their class and what most people don't get is that they are really good wizards... I mean despite being lunatic idiots too. So you really, really scared me when you did… you know. And I would have preferred to ask anybody else. I mean, I tried asking some Ravenclaws but that was doing no good. They're so… I don't know. They can't explain anything to me. And then there were those stories Harry told about you. And he says nice things about you all the time… and I thought maybe you could help me..."

"So, I can understand if you don't want to become friends over me asking for your help. But I really, really, really, really need your help with Arithmancy." Hermione's mouth was already open to protest but Katie ignored it and kept on talking, "But I'm not asking for a free favor. I'll return the favor as soon as you know how. And you can ask me for anything and I'll do my utmost to make it real." It was the most and the least she could offer at the same time.

Enthusiasm was notably absent on Hermione's face when she asked, "And what if there is no favor you could do for me?"

Katie licked her lips nervously, "I'm sure you can think of something. As I said, I'm willing to do anything." Her ponytail bounced wildly when her head nodded to emphasize her willingness.

In contrast, Hermione shook her head no. Her head tumbled. "Just ask the Ravenclaws in your Arithmancy course."

"As I said, I already did. And they just can't explain the number-stuff to me in a way I can understand. It's like they're parrots. All they're able of is to repeat what they hammered into their heads."

Hermione's lips formed a thin line when she shook her head yet again. Her jaw was set.

"Please!" Katie departed the begging route, "I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll give you a magical oath!"

Still looking anything but happy, anger seeped into Hermione's voice, "You should not offer something like that. There is no way you could actually mean what you just said!"

Since it was the first time her request got not outright rejected, Katie felt her hope raise. "But I mean it!"

Hermione snapped, "No, you don't!"

"I really mean it." Katie suddenly felt like all she had to do was to convince the other witch of her willingness to keep her word. "I would do anything for you in return for this."

Hermione rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance. "And you think there are no exceptions?"

"Yes, I mean, no! No exceptions." Katie nodded enthusiastically.

"You have no idea what kind of promise you're offering to give."

"I do know. And I will keep it!"

One of Hermione's eyebrows rose at a glacial pace. "And if I ask you to stop playing Quidditch once and for all to prove that this is really as important to you as you claim? Will you do that?"

Katie's eyes went wide. She swallowed and said, "If that's what you want? Then... Yes, I'll stop playing Quidditch."

"You'd be okay with that?" Hermione was flabbergasted.

"Yes, it's okay. I'll stop playing Quidditch if that's what I have to do." Before Hermione could come up with anything to say, Katie explained, "Arithmancy is more important than Quidditch. It's only a game. But I'm on probation in Arithmancy. I barely got an Acceptable for my O.W.L. I have to improve to a solid Acceptable by Christmas and ultimately Exceeds Expectations by the end of the year which is the grade required to enroll in the N.E.W.T. course in the first place."

This explanation changed something in Hermione's posture. Katie wasn't sure why but the other witch seemed more willing to consider her request. "Do you think I need to stop playing Quidditch? I mean, if I have to all you have to do is tell me."

"That's something only you can decide."

"You think so?"

"Who do you think should be able to do so if not you?"

"What about Professor..."

"Wrong. The answer is you." Hermione said categorically. "Besides, I'm certainly not going to spend my entire time tutoring you. So if Arithmancy is the only thing you're lagging behind you should be fine."

"You're going to help me?" Katie felt like whooping in triumph and punching the air at the same time but she refrained herself. First of all, she had more than a vague notion that doing so would not go over well with Hermione. And she had recently become kind of self-aware over it. She had noticed on Alicia how boyish this form of cheering looked.

"Just give me the parchment." Hermione pulled the huge chart out of Katie's hands for a closer look. She mumbled, "We've probably wasted more time talking about this then it will take me to check this.

It was true but confirming that guess was the very last thing on Katie's mind. "I promise, you won't regret this!"

"We'll see," grumbled Hermione. She picked her wand up and waved it over her quill. She whispered something so breathily Katie had no chance of understanding a single syllable. However, when Hermione picked the quill up and crossed the first number out it became clear that the incantation had been about changing the color of the ink.

"I promise that I'll work hard," Katie said giddily. "You're not going to waste your time on me." She was so excited over the short comments Hermione noted on the chart she was almost bouncing on her chair.

After watching the correction of her chart for a while Katie added, "It's been such a long time since someone marked my mistakes with red ink!" She prattled on, "I think it's so super-weird that the Professors don't use red ink. I thought it was the most obvious thing in the world but when I came to Hogwarts, everyone used normal ink and that's really so weird."

Hermione paused to look at Katie. "You're a Muggleborn?"

"Yes, I am." Katie shrugged her shoulders, "Just like you... didn't you know?"

"How was I supposed to know?" Hermione asked with an indignant huff.

Katie frowned due to the question. Yeah, how was she supposed to know? "I'm also only two months older than you. I was born on the First of July."

Hermione had abandoned the chart completely and was fully focused on Katie now. The intensity of her stare was quite scary. "How do you know about my birthday?"

"Because Harry asked us – that's Angelina, Alicia and me – what he should do for your birthday," Katie explained, "He already had a present. But, he had no idea how to give it to you and what else to do. Angelina suggested that smuggling a single slice of cake into the library would probably be the best for a weekday."

Far from being calm but at least no longer on the edge of hexing someone, Hermione asked sharply, "How much are you talking about me?"

"Not that much at all." Katie tried to explain the matter as casually as she could, "It's just that Alicia and Angelina really like to tease Harry about you. Personally, I think they'd like to have a boyfriend like him too." She instantly bit her tongue – what a dumb way to put her foot into her mouth! She added hurriedly, "But older!"

Hermione glanced at her out of the corner of her eye but said nothing.

The chart was quite big and despite Katie's visible efforts Hermione still found a significant number of mistakes. But there was also one thing Katie had been absolutely right about: Hermione knew this stuff. She checked the books more for Katie's benefit when she noted down page numbers than out of a need to.

"Is something making you nervous?" The words were spoken surprisingly soft but they still made Katie almost jump out of her chair.

She had been deep in thought. "Um, no. Why do you ask?"

Hermione had hardly looked up from the chart. "You're glancing at the way you came from like you want to get away."

Katie wanted to object but after talking Hermione into helping her it felt wrong to not answer the question truthfully, "I'd like to be gone before Harry gets here. I don't want him to know..." Katie's voice faded away.

Hermione guessed, "You don't want him to know that you need help in Arithmancy?"

"No, not exactly. I told Alicia and it's okay if she tells the rest of the team." Katie swallowed a lump in her throat. "I don't want him to think that I'm taking advantage of you."

"If that's what you're worried about, you can stop doing so. I'll meet Harry in the Great Hall at Dinner time."

"But I also don't want to take advantage of you. Please try to come up with something I can do for you okay?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the nice reviews!


	30. Snape and Umbridge

Snape and Umbridge

* * *

The dungeons always made Hermione shiver. Only because she was cold! She was not claustrophobic at all. There was not even a reason for claustrophobia. The underground corridors were exactly as wide as those on the upper floors. The dingy lighting was no problem either. She was not scared of the dark. She wished for windows. But only because the air smelled moldy. They were in a glorified cellar after all.

At least Harry was with her. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed right back. He sent her a small smile. If there hadn't been her fellow Gryffindors right next to her, she would have been tempted to kiss him.

But they were there. As were the Slytherins. The members of the two houses never mingled and stood as clearly apart from each other as the Slytherin boys and girls. They were quite busy talking among themselves. In hindsight, it became clear to Hermione that they had known what was to come.

Umbridge's voice could be heard before she was seen. The irony was not lost on Hermione. It was the exact opposite of what she preached them about appropriate behavior.

"It's actually happening!" Harry whispered excitedly.

When he looked at her, she gave him a silent nod. Quite a few Gryffindors showed similar expressions of childlike glee – almost like Christmas had come early. The Slytherins, on the other hand, looked everything from insecure to worried. Some tried to hide their feelings behind stony masks.

Umbridge's words became more discernible with each click of her pink shoes. Even without being looking there was no doubt about their color. "... can't see how my presence could possibly influence your performance."

"It's no problem for my performance at all," The sneer on Snape's face was a given fact not needing any visible confirmation too. "It's the students you have to consider. They're easy to distract and prone to making mistakes once their attention is not on what they're supposed to be doing."

Snape expressing worry over them made Hermione's brows rise. He had rarely even pretended to care about any of them. When Lavender had once singed her hair, he had only commented on the smell in a very derisive way. She could only surmise that Snape was faking interest due to actually worry about his job.

"It's not like I'm asking for permission." Umbridge rebuked waspishly. In a more neutral tone, she added, "It won't be that bad. I've been in multiple classes and the other professors did their best. I'm sure you'll manage and if you... I could always arrange a second inspection,"

"I can hardly contain my anticipation,"

No other Professors rounding the corner could have looked more polar. Snape was a tall wizard in a black billowing cloak. His long and space-consuming strides forced the smaller witch almost to run to keep up with him. As a direct result of this, Umbridge's cheeks had the same color as her clothes.

Snape glared at them. "What are you all gawking at?"

"The door is locked, Sir," Draco said in the poshest tone Hermione had ever heard him use.

Umbridge instantly jumped at this and asked in equal parts curious and chiding, "Are you always locking the students out?"

With great ado, she pulled a parchment out of her purse. The pink quill in her hand bobbed up and down furiously as she started taking notes despite Snape not having answered her question yet.

"Someone" Snape's eyes swept over Slytherins and Gryffindors alike. "took ingredients out of the school's supplies."

The witch at his side screeched, "A student has stolen from the school?" Her quill worked harder than ever. "What has been stolen?" This time she actually paused.

Hermione spotted Snape looking at the pink quill hovering over the parchment. He was aware that Umbridge was waiting for an answer.

"I already wrote the report. If you're interested in the incident" Snape left a dramatic pause, "ask the Headmaster."

The Potion master's cloak billowed. Students stumbled out of his way. His wand tapped the heavy wooden door to his Potions Classroom. A series of audible clicks indicated that more than one deadbolt unlocked itself. Snape pushed the thick door open so harshly that it banged into the wall. Over his shoulder, he snapped, "Enough dilly-dallying! Get to your cauldrons. We got no time to waste,"

All students scrambled for the door at the same time and thus bared Umbridge from following him. Snape was in a mood and nobody wanted to give him a reason to vent his anger on them.

Hermione dragged Harry by his hand into the thick of the crowd. He pulled his eyes away from Umbridge who was probably fuming by now.

Suddenly, she was pushed at the stony doorframe and she would have crashed face first into it if Harry had not pulled her back by the arm he still had a grip on. "Watch it Zabini!" He snapped.

Hermione, however, looked past the taller boy and where he had come from. As expected she saw Goyle standing behind him next to a smirking Draco.

They were pushed through the door by their fellow Gryffindors. She heard Ron's thrilled voice announce, "We're in for a treat,"

To which Seamus replied mirthlessly, "Don't count your chickens before they are hatched."

She lost track of the conversation since Harry's two dorm mates remained at the back of the classroom while Harry now pulled her to their usual table in the front row. He let her slip into the row before him so he would sit at the aisle.

Snape had wasted no time after entering. A ridiculous amount of instructions and warnings was already written onto the blackboard. And he was not done yet. A piece of floating chalk added line upon line.

"Lesson starts!" Snape snapped at them. "Get your books out! Page ninety-seven and following, the Strengthening Solution,"

The classroom was filled with the sound of students rummaging through their backpacks and satchels. Hermione checked where their Ministry Appointed Inspector was. Umbridge lingered at the back of the classroom. Hermione concluded that today was to be one of those days where she would engage a professor over the heads of his students instead of standing behind them to keep them on their toes. That would have probably not worked on Snape anyway.

A quick glance at Harry made her acutely aware of something. She whispered a warning, "With Umbridge and Snape in the same room, you should really try to keep your head down,"

"Sure," Harry answered almost as quietly. "Will do," He kept on pretending to look for his book.

"The way you're craning your neck is really eye-catching," Hermione hissed, "I wouldn't put it past Snape to single you out and try to make you look like a fool without a reason. But if you actually give him one like not paying attention in class it could become exceptionally more nasty – especially with Umbridge around as well!"

"I'm aware of that," Harry whispered while looking back and forth between Snape and Umbridge. "But they're both busy,"

The two professors were not only at different ends of the room. Both had turned their backs at them. While he was still busy with the blackboard, she had taken an interest in a cabinet full of empty vials. "At least get your Potion's book out,"

The book, Harry had retrieved under great difficulty from his satchel, was placed on the edge of their table.

His eyes were glued to Umbridge's back the entire time. She had shifted her attention to the rows of Slytherins. Hermione could understand his curiosity. Would Umbridge try to fish for lies again? Would the Slytherins stab their head of house in the back?

She turned her head away. Watching her was a waste of time. She wanted to check the blackboard but her gaze got caught. She huffed in annoyance. "I forgot my book – can you lend me yours?"

"Sure," Harry pushed his book over to her.

Hermione picked it up and held it right in front of his nose. It blocked his entire field of vision. He jerked visibly. "That is not your Potions Book!"

Sadly, she could not see Harry's eyes go wide. He spluttered some incomprehensive syllables, snatched his Transfiguration Book out of her hands, and got the right book out of his satchel in no time at all.

"You should really pay attention today," Hermione whispered, "You know that both, Umbridge and Snape, have it in for us,"

"Yes. You're right," Harry flipped his book open and immediately started copying the list of ingredients. The fact that the potion even had a prefixed list said a lot about how complicated it would be to brew.

Hermione started transcribing a set of instructions from the text. Like always their book delivered a tract about the potion they were to brew. It was a really good and advanced book explaining what made this potion work and how the ingredients interacted. But for the process of brewing, a short list of instructions was obviously better suited. She also checked the notes on the blackboard. They were more clarifying than usual but not meant to be used as the sole source of directions.

After finishing with the blackboard, Snape unlocked the cupboards. Half of the students scrambled to the front to fetch ingredients. Harry was one of them.

With one ear, Hermione heard Snape snap, "Not so many Hornsnail shells, Longbottom! Are you planning to blow the entire classroom up?"

* * *

To say Harry was surprised when Neville was saved from melting his cauldron was an understatement. He nearly dropped his Fluxweed. Snape made up for his atypical aid by giving Neville a sharp dressing down. Harry looked frantically around for Umbridge. For once there actually was something worthy of reporting but she was at the other end of the room. Of all things she could have done she was counting cauldrons on a side shelf.

Disgruntled, Harry turned his attention back to the task at hand or better said the list in his hand. Where were the Griffin Claws? He looked at other students. Surely, one of them would pick some up at one point. Parvati did him the favor of rummaging in a bowl he had paid no attention to.

Once more sitting next to Hermione, he went over his list and ticked the ingredients off. Hermione was still studying the instructions. Which was kind of to be expected since the book had saved him some time.

Usually, his girlfriend would have set up their working spaces by now. Since she was still occupied Harry got a cauldron for each of them and collected the other stuff they would need. It was quite a lot. Beyond the standard equipment like cauldrons, scales, and vials, each of them needed two knives, one made from bronze and an iron one and three different stirrers. Harry placed everything on top of their cutting boards. Meanwhile, Hermione checked whether their mortars and pestles were clean.

"All ready?" he asked.

She nodded at him and they started working. She read out the first step for brewing the Strengthening Solution but not from her book or from the blackboard. While Harry had been busy with gathering stuff, Hermione had condensed six pages of bloated gibberish into a step by step guide. A parchment littered with self-created symbols lay in between them.

On it were twirls to indicate the stirring directions accompanied by numbers explaining how many stirs were required. There were abbreviations for the ingredients, and also lots of weird symbols. He recognized the stylized scale but most of the signs only made sense to his girlfriend. She would have to tell him what each line meant in time.

Over the bubbling of the many cauldrons around them, he soon had to strain his ears to hear her whispered instructions. They had had ample opportunity to find the right volume since he had moved to sit next to her.

It was pretty easy to keep up with Hermione. She was quite slow at chopping ingredients. She put extreme attention on cutting everything to the same size. Harry had checked. No instructions asked her to do so. Often enough there was not even an unambiguous clarification which size the chopped ingredients should have. She was deciding these things on her own. Maybe she was right about it. Snape did definitely not award her Outstandings because he liked her.

However, Harry was not going to take aim for every cut he made with his knife. Which was even more convenient today than usual since he wanted to see his two most disliked Professors lock horns.

Umbridge waltzed through the classroom like it was hers – not that she ever bothered to leave her desk during her own class. Beyond that, there was little to witness. For the time being she seemed to be set on inventorying the entire contents of the Potion Lab.

Harry's interest was kindled when Umbridge approached the front of the classroom. It was easy to guess that she wanted to take a look at Snape's cupboards which were containing the potion ingredients. Maybe, she'd even check for traces of the theft. If she did, Harry could already hear Snape telling her in a condescending manner that she would find nothing since he had found nothing.

The Potions Master sat at his desk right next to the cupboards. He was marking some student's homework.

Harry held his breath.

The witch stepped up to the left cupboard. She put her quill away and put her parchment down. She picked up a vial and checked its label. She studied the contents of a little basket and some small boxes. She sniffed on a bowl. Almost absent-mindedly she asked, "Is there a list of the ingredients?"

After remaining silent for so long Harry wondered if Snape had heard the question at all, he finally answered casually, "Yes, there is,"

Harry started to grin when it became more and more clear that he was not going to elaborate.

Umbridge requested in a clipped tone, "I'd like to take a look at it. I'd also like to know what was stolen,"

Without looking up Snape answered, "I'm sorry. The list is currently in the headmaster's office. You'd have to ask him for it," Harry noticed that the Slytherin did not sound sorry at all.

"I'd like to take look at the copy then," Umbridge probably meant for her voice to sound sweet and nice but she just spoke in a high, grating pitch.

This time Snape did look up. His voice was smooth and contained. "This is not the Ministry. People have other things to do than bringing copies of everything up to date,"

Umbridge walked up to the sitting wizard who was watching her with mild interest. She asked sharply, "Are you insinuating that the Ministry is inefficient?"

"I'm not sure how you got that impression," He sighed and turned back to the parchment in front of him.

"Do you expect me to make an inventory of all that stuff?" Umbridge pointed a short finger at the cupboards.

"I don't see why you would want to as you could just ask the headmaster for the list," Snape smiled thinly, "But I'm certainly not going to stop you from drafting your own list. However, I'll be unable to assist you in this endeavor as I'm quite busy right now," That being said he returned to the assignment in front of his nose.

Harry thought that he could see Snape smirk behind the curtain his greasy hairs formed around his downwards-angled head.

Umbridge fumed silently. She glared at the sitting wizard who ignored her pointedly. She looked at her list and then at the sheer vastness of stuff in the cupboards.

Hermione chose that moment to elbow him. She hissed, "I said: Crush and grind the Griffin claw!"

"Sorry, I'm at it," Harry hurriedly threw two fragments of claw into his mortar and smashed them with his pestle. While his hands were busy, Harry observed Umbridge. She started to systematically pick one thing after the other up and made notes on her parchment. It soon became boring to watch her. Harry shifted his attention to Snape.

He watched him for quite some time until he realized what was off about him. He had seen the Potions Master correct assignments before. He had never invested that much time in checking just one. Harry was ninety percent sure he was only pretending to be busy.

For a while, Harry concentrated on his brewing and only checked Umbridge's progress in the short periods in which he got ahead of Hermione due to her tedious way of preparing the ingredients. As cutting his Fluxweed turned out to be somewhat tricky he missed how the argument started.

"Of all the things you could teach the students, why did you choose the Strengthening Solution?" Umbridge was not loud enough to be heard in the last row but she wasn't exactly talking quietly either. "I think the Ministry of Magic would prefer it not to be included in the syllabus. Are you not aware of the many ways this potion can be misused?"

Moments before Umbridge finished her question Snape started writing a lengthy comment on the parchment under his nose. Harry was sure it was not by coincidence. Especially if he considered how much it annoyed the witch to be ignored. "Last time I checked the Strengthening Solution was still part of the syllabus. A syllabus that was approved by the Wizarding Examinations Authority or in other words the Ministry of Magic,"

Umbridge's nostrils flared. "That can be remedied. Times are changing,"

"But who can say what is to come?" Snape mused thoughtfully. "Divination is not known to be the most exact of the Magical Arts,"

The scales fell from Harry's eyes. Someone had told the Head of Slytherin what Trewlaney's inspection had been like. And probably the same person had also told him how Umbridge used to teach her classes. He was imitating her perfectly!

"Your lack of trust is quite understandable due to the poor example set by the current Professor," Umbridge answered magnanimously. "But some things are as unavoidable as dusk and dawn,"

Snape looked thoughtful. Then he nodded commendatory, "Very poetic,"

Umbridge's eyes bugged as the wizard went back to dissecting some poor student's assignment. Angrily, she stalked away as fast as her short legs carried her.

Harry turned to Hermione. He was planning to inform her about his observations.

She was however busy counting Dandelion seeds and he didn't want to disturb her. As most of her face was hidden by her hair he was surprised when she said, "You should pay better attention to your potion. If you proceed in this manner it'll soon be ruined,"

Harry wanted to say that he didn't care since Snape would give him a shitty grade anyway. But he did care in so far as he didn't want to disappoint Hermione. Harry looked closer at his Potion and realized that it had become quite gooey. Checking the instructions, he found a swirl indicated a need for clockwise stirring. He counted the stirs correctly but he did not achieve the runny consistency he could spy in Hermione's cauldron. At least, the green had the same shade.

He checked the instructions again and started counting seeds as well. Halfway done, he started craning his neck again. Umbridge was going from one cauldron to the other. She looked into each of them.

"The performance of your students is very... non-uniform," She wrinkled her nose over Crabbe's cauldron.

"Not everyone is versed in the fickle art of brewing," Snape replied without looking up.

"Well the differences are quite staggering," She rewarded Malfoy's potion with a nod.

A sharp pain made Harry turn his head. Hermione had pinched him. "This is the last time I'll stop you from making a mistake," Her glare told him that she was almost seething. She pointed at his hand. "That's your pomegranate juice,"

Harry looked at his hand. He had almost poured his drink into his cauldron.

"If you don't pay attention from now on, you're on your own in Potions,"

Harry put the juice down. A small part of him wondered whether she meant for this lesson or in general. He refrained from asking though. That was exactly the kind of stupidity that would really annoy her.

He had almost caught up to Hermione's brewing when a very loud gurgling drowned out every other sound. Snape barking "Longbottom!" could barely be heard over the unnaturally loud sound.

Long purposeful strides carried his billowing cloak to the last row.

Harry watched in disbelieve as the king of dungeon bats did something he had never done before. He pulled some dust out of his cloak and threw it into Neville's cauldron then stirred it fast. The gurgling died down almost instantly.

Snape flipped the page of Neville's potion book. "Proceed from here,"

Confusion was written all over Neville's face. He looked down owlishly then back up bereft of speech.

"What do you say if someone helps you?" Umbridge asked in her sickeningly sweet voice. She had appeared next to the cauldron and was currently busy making notes on the incident.

"Thank you, Professor S-Snape,"

On one level Harry understood that Snape was only stopping Neville from blowing up his potion so he as his teacher would not look bad. But on the other hand, Snape had stopped Neville from ruining his potion twice and he could not wrap his mind around that.

As it turned out, there really was not enough time to brew a half-decent potion and keep track of Umbridge. Once more Harry missed how an argument between her and Snape started!

"Are you questioning my expertise?"

"I was chosen to determine whether the currently employed Professors at Hogwarts are capable to teach at the standards set by the Ministry. I've checked your qualifications and am now here to examine your abilities,"

Now that was what Harry had been waiting for! His potion was forgotten and like everyone else, he stared at the back row where Snape and Umbridge stood next to Goyle's cauldron.

"And what exactly qualifies you to assess my capabilities in Potions?" Snape asked pointedly.

"I'm Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic. I've been assessing and reorganizing staff for... long enough. My qualification to evaluate is out of the question. And it is certainly not to be disputed by or with you,"

Snape glowered.

Harry held his breath as he was sure it was going to get really good!

But instead of upping the ante, he turned around and stalked back to his desk. He sat down angrily. "You may proceed to do so,"

"I don't need your consent,"

"You have it anyway. And if there is something you'd actually like to ask me about potions I'll gladly demonstrate my capabilities,"

And that was it. Umbridge did not ask him anything about potions. And in return, the only thing Snape would say for the remainder of the lesson was "Do as you please,"

Once they were out of the dungeons Harry announced, "I'm gonna fall face first onto the rug in front of the fireplace,"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Just don't goof off with Ron all afternoon,"

"Don't worry. My homework and I will be ready for inspection and reward-kissing respectively,"

Hermione gave him a long and intense look. "There is no such thing as reward-kissing,"

"Sure, there is. That's what we do - isn't it?"

"No, that's not what we do,"

"Really? But..."

"We don't need an excuse for kissing," Hermione said sternly.

Harry grinned. "I'll take any excuse to kiss you that I get,"

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry grinned even harder.

"So, I'm gonna fetch you in the library and we'll go down to dinner like always?"

"No. I'll be looking over Katy's Arithmancy homework before dinner." Hermione explained, "We'll be in some classroom. I don't know which,"

* * *

Hermione mused that helping Katie with Arithmancy was almost like having a friend. At least she imagined having a friend to be like this. Maybe, they were friends? How did you know if you were someone's friend?

She knew back in grade school children had asked and told each other that they wanted to be or were friends. Nobody did either of those things at their age anymore. Naturally, she knew that friends spent time together. Did spending time with Katie while tutoring her count in that regard? Probably not.

Katie lived up to her part of the deal. She always read the pages assigned to her and she always showed up having solved the number of equations demanded from her. The equations were not hard or anything. They were meant to get Katie used to calculate. She would never become good at Arithmancy if she didn't get used to handling numbers.

However, it was not like they were working all the time. Katie tried to skive off and delay the lectures by idle chit-chat. Which had gotten Hermione wondering how they stood relation-wise to each other in the first place.

Time would tell soon enough. Katie made steady progress and would probably catch up to the other students in her Arithmancy course around Christmas. Hermione was acutely aware of the fact that she had yet to come up with a way for Katie to compensate the time she had invested in the tutoring sessions. The older witch had made various offers so far. So many that it had become almost a game for her.

Hermione's only idea so far had been that Katie could be of assistance to Harry in his so far fruitless endeavor to get Umbridge sacked. Katie had tried. She had been unsuccessful in talking any of her friends into signing Harry's petition. The general opinion was that they would all get good grades at the end of this year thanks to Umbridge and the announced change of ministerial standards and that Umbridge would be gone next year anyway.

"I could style your hair for the rest of the year," Katie offered.

Hermione huffed, "I don't want that,"

"But you got such long hair and so-oh-ho much of it! We could try some really outrageous hairstyles!"

"I like my hair the way it is,"

The gleam in Katie's eye told her that this was only the beginning. Luckily, a knock cut their argument short. Katie frowned, "Who is that?"

"Only one way to find out," Hermione answered her then called out louder so she might be heard in the hallway, "Who is it?"

"It's me," A muffled voice called back. After a moment the person added, "It's me, Harry," Then he started mocking them. "Harry Potter. The wizard sitting next to you in class. Glasses, black hair, green eyes? Gryffindor seeker..."

Katie snickered behind her hand. Hermione shook her head in exasperation over the cheek of her boyfriend.

She glared softly at Katie and whispered, "Two can play that game," She called in a straight voice, "I'm sorry that doesn't ring a bell,"

There was silence from beyond the door. Katie trembled in quiet laughter.

"Hermione, please open the door before someone sees me?"

"Fine," She waved her wand. "Finite Incantatem!" Then called, "Come in,"

Harry opened the door a tiny crack. Once more in the mood for jokes, he asked, "Are you decent?"

Hermione threatened, "Come in before I lock the door again!"

"Alright!" Harry all but jumped into the room.

He looked around. They were in an abandoned astronomy classroom. Yellowed charts hung on the walls and an outdated telescope stood in one corner. The room also featured huge windows overlooking the south of the grounds. One could probably watch a lot of stars at night through them which in turn might have been the initial reason this room had been picked for teaching Astronomy.

Once Harry was done savoring the view he noticed Katie collecting her stuff. "You don't have to leave,"

Katie shook her head, "I don't want to impose on you guys,"

"You're not," He assured her. "I don't want to chase you away. Hermione and I will be going down to dinner very soon anyway. You can come with us,"

Katie paused. "We were done with Arithmancy," She glanced insecurely at Hermione. The other witch shrugged her shoulders. She was indifferent about her presence.

"Okay," Katie hesitantly reclaimed her chair.

After looking over the many seating options, Harry chose to sit on the windowsill. Hermione expected him to start talking about Quidditch at any moment or ask Katie how she felt about her progress in Arithmancy. "How many of your classes has Umbridge visited?"

"Only one," Katy shrugged her shoulders, "As far as I know she focuses on fifth and seventh years because they have exams,"

That was new to Hermione. She had thought Umbridge was seeking out all classes equally with the exception of theirs.

Equal surprise could be heard in Harry's voice when he exclaimed, "That explains at least why she dropped in on literally each of our classes!"

"Better you than me," Katie stated flippantly.

Harry tried to make a sour face over that comment but that endeavor was understandably hard with Katie giggling madly.

"Hermione mentioned you had Umbridge" Katie made air quotes: "'inspecting' Snape today. Can we hope for him to get sacked? I mean, I don't have potions anymore but I'd still like to see him get kicked out," Her voice grew rather fierce at the end of her statement.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "Snape was not a complete failure for once. He wrote more instructions than usual at the blackboard and stopped Neville from blowing up his cauldron twice."

Hermione wondered when the second time had been. She could obviously remember the gurgling but when had the other time been?

"But mostly Snape sat at his desk and pretended to correct assignments. Umbridge was not that happy with him but overall I don't think she has it for him. She's not given as many snide remarks on him like on Hargid or Trelawney,"

Katie moaned displeased, "That's too bad,"

"Well, Umbridge was too busy listing all the rubbish in the Potions Lab,"

Hermione wondered aloud, "Which rubbish?"

"All the excess cauldrons, stirrers, pestles, vials, everything down there,"

"That rubbish is perfectly fine equipment," Hermione frowned at the young wizard. "Why do you even think Umbridge made an inventory? Do you think she did so out of boredom?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "No idea,"

"What do you think would happen if she finds that things are missing?"

Harry's lips formed a surprised O, "That would be quite bad for Snape,"

"Yes, it would,"

It took Harry only a mere moment to come to a conclusion, "Does that mean the so-called theft never happened? Was Snape covering up that some things were missing from his cupboards?"

"Counter question: How likely is it that Snape's storage gets looted right before Umbridge decides to inspect him?"

* * *

A/N: I really need to stop working on this chapter... And thanks for all your reviews.


	31. Order Meeting and the Hogsmeade Attack

Order Meeting and the Hogsmeade Attack

* * *

"... Potter's lie cost us plenty. The Dark Lord is making good use of the opportunity. While we sit idle and talk, positions inside the Ministry are getting secured. The Dark Lord is advancing his campaign to overthrow the government in secret while also preparing for war by stocking potions, ingredients, and gold. He grows stronger with every passing day."

In Sirius' opinion, Snape loved the sound of his own oily voice. Once he started speaking, it was very common for him to drone on and on for minutes. The former Marauder ground his teeth so he would not snap at the sole spy of the Order to shut his trap. Snape was giving them the same report as last week. Hadn't he learned about anything new while groveling at the feet of his master? Sirius' mouth was already open to confront him.

Alas, Moody beat him to it by barking, "We need names!"

Nymphadora cringed. Her mentor had basically screamed in her ear. The other Order members barely jerked over Moody's sudden outburst. They were used enough to his antics by now.

Snape glared at the former Auror.

"Moody is right." Kingsley nodded slowly, "Your reports are good to have but we cannot act on this information. They are too vague. We need the names of his contacts in the ministry. Our attempts to counter the shift of opinions in the ministry would be more effective if we could not only undermine the opposite arguments but those who spread them as well,"

Sirius did not even try to suppress his toothy grin. Finally! Snivellus couldn't deflect this criticism as easily as he could have if Sirius had said anything. It served him right.

Moody growled, "Or point us at some locations of stocked consumables. We could at least seize them,"

"Maybe, we could even track and identify those who stock them." Kingsley mused, "With a little bit of luck, they could lead us to others and thus we might unravel the supporting network. We might even be able to identify some supporters of You-Know-Who you don't know about,"

"The Dark Lord acts cautiously." Snape explained in a pressed tone, "At this phase of the preparations the Death Eaters can work at their discretion. Everyone gets his separate orders to follow. Many things are not organized by the Dark Lord but by certain followers. They make others run errands. Simple tasks – most of them even legal. There is hardly any need for consultation when you stock up on Potion ingredients. Meetings in groups are scarce. Thus information is hard to come by."

Sirius sneered at Snivellus' explanation. It was no wonder the human-sized bat brought them no new information. The other Death Eaters could hardly tell him anything if he never ceased talking! Why couldn't he give brief reports?

"So, you mean to tell us," Sirius turned his head left. He was startled that Remus had suddenly spoken up, "that you're told which potions to brew and currently only interact with those who supply you with ingredients and those who keep the potions safe?"

"Neither in fact. Lucius takes care of both. I'm merely brewing."

"We need intel about what's going on." Kingsley said in his deep voice, "We're too few to waste our efforts on pointless assignments. You need to get us information we can act on. Anything could be useful but names would be the very best you could supply us with,"

"It's not like I could just schedule a meeting with the Dark Lord and ask him what's going on." Snape drawled. "I'm not privy to the his machinations. Currently, I'm just brewing for him."

"Which potions?" Moody asked pointedly.

"A vast number." Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Anything you can think of."

"Why don't I have a list? You know how to write!" Moody barked in his clipped manner.

"There is nothing special about them." Snape said with a tired sigh, "We can't learn anything about the Dark Lord's plans this way. I would have told you."

Moody flicked his wand at a cupboard. A drawer was ripped out. Its contents were spilled all over the floor. Moody summoned a parchment with a deft wand motion. He placed it in front of Snape. "You'll write the list. And I'll decide whether we can learn something from it."

"I'm mostly preparing non-perishable salves for healing purposes." Snape's arms remained crossed and far away from the parchment. "The Dark Lord has currently little need for advanced potions. Except for a constant supply of Wolfsbane Potion."

Sirius noticed several people glancing at Remus who stiffened at the mention of his condition.

Dumbledore's soft voice was a sharp contrast to the two other wizards' almost livid argument, "Severus, please write the list for Alastor."

"If a Death Eater gets his hands on this list, I'm dead." The potions master objected.

Usually, the mere suggestion of Snivellus' murder at the hands of his Death Eater friends would have brightened Sirius' mood but he had already been smiling in the happiest manner he could manage over Snivellus being put in his place.

Meanwhile, Moody growled, "The Death Eater will only get this list over my dead body!"

Reluctantly, Snivellus started writing the list.

With the Potions Master being busy it was finally time for someone else to speak up.

Sirius was almost humming over the sight of Snivellus leaning over the parchment. He completely missed that the floor was given to Molly. "Bill has something important to report."

The oldest Weasley son groaned, "Mo-om!"

Sirius chortled and turned to look at the three present Weasleys. "Better spill it out before your mom canes your bum!"

His comment elicited a round of suppressed chuckles from the assembled Order members.

"Sirius Black!" snapped Molly in mild outrage, "I have never physically punished any child of mine!" Aimed at the son right next to her she snapped, "Make your report!"

"Okay, 's alright," Bill grumbled good-naturedly. He leaned forward so he was better visible for those at the far ends of the table. "Dad already told you that he pulled some strings to get me a few small jobs at the ministry. Nothing important and everything under the cover of getting me some recommendations for an actual application. So far I've done a bit of maintenance and some small enchantments – all child's play if you ask me." Bill shrugged his shoulders.

"Anyway, yesterday, I had an assignment in the Office for the Improper Use of Magic." His voice lost its nonchalance. "Chester Davies was appointed to supervise me. He took his order quite literal and was staring a hole into the back of my head while I was working. So, I took my time and ignored him pointedly. Luckily we never got along at school. But finally, he left with a huff about how he couldn't waste any more time on me and that I should report to him once I was finally done with boggling up the enchantments,"

Bill chuckled, "I'm pretty sure he'll give me a negative assessment if anyone cares to ask for his opinion. However, in his absence, I was able to check the Students Registration Book thoroughly. I'll spare you the details but I'm sure it's linked via a Oneway-Protean-Charm to the Book of Admittance at Hogwarts."

"That's very good news." Dumbledore nodded merrily. It took him a while to elaborate on his thought, "If we have to, we'll be able to deny the access to the list of Muggle-borns completely without having to set a foot into the ministry. That way all so far not registered Muggle-borns will be safe from prosecution."

Kingsley interjected warningly in his deep voice, "We can't leave their bursts of accidental magic unchecked though."

"When in doubt, it's better than putting their safety at risk." Molly intervened. "We should cut off the connection between the two books rather sooner than later. If the attack at Hermione proves anything at all then that the Muggle-borns are easy targets."

"The current situation is advantageous!" Bill promoted the point of his mother, "The magics on the book are brittle and in dire need of replacement. It's way too late for maintenance on any of the enchantments. They will collapse if someone so much as pokes his or her wand too hard at them. I'm confident that all magic on the book will collapse if we break the Oneway-Protean-Charm in the right way. And if that happens it's more than likely, that they wouldn't even be able to tell which magic broke first,"

"We can't risk damaging the Book of Acceptance." McGonagall added her own opinion to the discussion, "It's not only a unique magical relic but an essential item for finding the Muggle-borns." In a warning voice, she said, "Very bad things happen if children are not taught to control their magical abilities!"

When nobody spoke up it was Tonks who said, "Maybe we'll have to risk inconveniencing them,"

"That's out of the question!" McGonagall replied sternly, "You seem to have never finished reading 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'! We can't risk having a single Muggle-born slip through our educational net. The risk of them creating an Obscurus is very real! We would not only put innocent people in harm's way. We could even risk the Statute for Secrecy!"

Sirius objected without thinking about it, "If we have to decide in between an artifact and children, we should save the children."

"Sirius Black!" McGonagall snapped icily, "I'll have you know that I would never put children in harm's way!"

Sirius had to concede that his choice of words had been somewhat hapless. Even Remus softly shook his head.

Luckily, Dumbledore saved him from having to defend himself, "Minerva is right. Creating a replacement for the Book of Acceptance or even mending damage on it could take years of hard work. We can't spare resources for such a project. Therefore, we have to act very responsibly. However, no harm will be done by having Bill take a thorough look at the book at Hogwarts."

It was then that something made a jingling sound. Dumbledore pulled a silver trinket out of his colorful robe. He looked peculiarly at a small item which remarkably looked like a squashed can. "I need to use the floo. I kindly excuse myself for a few moments."

In the sudden absence of their leader, the scratching of Snape's quill was the only sound in the kitchen. Soon everyone was staring incredulously at the writing wizard. The sheer number of potions he listed was baffling.

When he was finally done, he pushed the parchment over to Moody, who eagerly picked it up. For once both of his eyes were focused on the same thing. "Alright lad, that's something to start on!"

Even Sirius could hear the worry in Snape's voice, "I have to emphasize once more that this has to be treated with utmost secrecy."

Like everyone else, Sirius gaped at the sheer length of the list. "You've been brewing these many potions for You-Know-Who?"

Snape's answer was dripping with sarcasm, "We can't be all filthy rich bachelors living of our inheritance. But, I'm genuinely sorry for actually working." He further snubbed him, "I'm doing my very best to earn the Dark Lord's favor. How else am I supposed to enhance my position? I need access to the inner circle to be privy on the information you want me to come upon. And that's the way to go," He gestured at the list.

Sirius barked right back, "You-Know-Who is profiting way more from you than we're!" He gestured at the list in front of Moody. "You did not even forward the information concerning yourself without getting pressured! When will we finally get something viable from you?"

"Sirius, calm down!" Remus hissed warningly. He pulled him back onto his chair.

Sirius had not even noticed that he had stood up.

"Black, you have no idea what you're talking about." Snape drawled, "I'm risking my very life every time I subjugate myself to the Dark Lord's whims,"

"You're right!" Sirius barked, "We" He gestured at the entire table, "have no idea what you're talking about. None of us subjugated themselves to You-Know-Who! We would have preferred certain death over allying us with that monster and committing horrendous crimes in his name. A lot of us actually died while opposing You-Know-Who! So, don't talk like you're better than any of us! Because you're not! You are still the same old creep you've always been! You should feel lucky that we gave you a chance to redeem yourself!" Only in hindsight did Sirius notice that he had not only stood up once again but had screamed at the top of his lungs.

"At least I'm not doing more harm to our cause than actual good," Snape answered dismissively. "It was your duty to talk sense into Potter before he revoked that he had seen the Dark Lord's return,"

"Harry had to lie to save a teenage witch from Azkaban!" Sirius roared, "We're not talking about detention at Hogwarts here!" This time he noticed when he leaped onto his feet.

Snape sneered at him across the table, "Potter's false statement cost Dumbledore credibility at the most crucial moment,"

"Did it really?" Dumbledore asked amicably from the door. He went over to reclaim his seat at the head of the table. "Due to certain reports on the newspaper, Harry's credibility was already in tatters."

Snape declared, "He could have challenged Diggory's assertion. It was one word against the other."

Moody grunted, "Diggory's boy claimed to have used the Confundus Charm on Potter. That's not one word against the other. That's checkmate,"

In the middle of the table, Arthur nodded in agreement. "Any statement made under such circumstances isn't worth the air it was spoken with."

"In an official hearing, Cedric could have been forced to ingest Veritaserum." Tonks tossed in and turned her head questioningly at the headmaster, "That would have solved the problem."

"But there was no official hearing," Moody grumbled.

"And we couldn't call for one. Fudge orchestrated this perfectly." Dumbledore explained gravely. "I underestimated him. This was not the doing of the amateur I thought him to be." Dumbledore shook his head thoughtfully, "When he was appointed Minister of Magic, he sometimes visited me multiple times a week to ask for my opinion. Maybe he was never really interested in my advice. Maybe he was only doing this to deflect criticism. While I'm not sure which side of Fudge is the real one we can't underestimate him anymore."

That warning concluded their meeting. Dumbledore told those, who were not in a hurry, that Hagrid had called from the continent. He'd be back in a few weeks.

Some Order members departed in small groups. Most notably were the teachers and the Weasleys. Despite all of them being capable of Apparition most of them preferred to use the floo. Sirius made sure Mundungus left without a detour.

When the only people left behind were the two former Marauders, Remus grabbed his friend by the elbow and pulled him into the drawing-room. "Sirius, what were you thinking."

"I was thinking that Snape is poison. He has always been and he will always be. Whatever he touches will rot and ultimately die,"

"Okay," Remus' eyebrows were almost touching his fringe. "That's very melodramatic. Could we maybe talk about this like the two grown wizards we are – without any pubertal nonsense?"

"Okay, if you want to." Sirius pouted before slumping into a stuffy armchair. Upon realizing what he was doing, he hurriedly sat up straight and imitated one of his father's poses. "You may start our no-nonsense discussion."

Remus hesitated before he reluctantly took a seat on the couch. "Okay," He linked his fingers and then gave his nervousness away when he immediately unlinked them. "We're all in the same boat. We want to stop You-Know-Who before he'll plunge our country into the abyss once more. Therefore we should all work together,"

Sirius stared at his friend for a very long moment before he started chuckling darkly, "Is that what you believe you're working for, Remus? Is that what you think we're all working for?" He mockingly added, "For our country?"

"Well," Remus pulled a face before he tried to explain himself, "We're certainly not doing this for the ministry. We're doing this for the people. For the innocents that just want to live their lives in peace."

Sirius shook his head in disbelieve, "Do you believe Sniv- ... Do you believe Severus Snape wants to save those people? People he doesn't know. People who are probably not even aware that he exists. People, who have the abstract knowledge that he teaches their children a course they are not especially fond of?" Sirius leaned forward to emphasize his next words, "He has no friends. He has no family. He has no attachments at all. He treats children like crap. And the only times I've ever seen him smile was when he got away with sneering at someone!"

The calmness of Remus' answer was remarkable, "He has every reason to hate the both of us, we have no idea what he's really like,"

"I'm of the opposite opinion. I think we know the real Severus Snape very well. There is no nice guy hidden behind that facade." Sirius shook his head. "I don't believe that for a single moment. If he has a reason to fight Voldemort, we have no idea about it. And whatever that reason might be I doubt that you and I would cheer him for it!"

Remus gasped, "You doubt his loyalty?"

Sirius took his time to think the question over. Finally, he said in a grave tone, "I never trusted him,"

"This is no joking matter!"

"I'm not joking at all." Sirius waved his hand, "Okay, let us forget about him for a moment. Let's get back to my initial question. What do you think, I'm fighting for?"

Remus took a long look at him. He was visibly confused and searching for the words to express this state of mind. "You're standing by your friends' side to fight the darkness..." Remus voice wavered minimally before adding, "and to protect the people."

"You know the last part is not true." It was a sad truth. And it was hard to admit this to his idealistic friend. But for once, Sirius did not feel like protecting the picture his best friend had of him. "At some point, I was trying to do the right thing because it was the right thing to do. But that part of me is no more. Maybe I left that part behind in Azkaban. Maybe I've become egoistical with age. Maybe I'm lacking the positive influence of Lily and James. Maybe I'm mentally unstable and I'll change my mind once more. But the only people I want to protect right now are my friends. Don't get me wrong if nobody else gets harmed that's good but if other people die..." Sirius carelessly shrugged a single shoulder.

Remus tried to speak up several times but no sound left his throat. "What does it matter in the end as long as you're doing the right thing?"

"That's right. As long as I do the right thing it doesn't matter at all." Sirius saw Remus breath a sigh of relief, "But I don't feel like I will go out of my way to do the right thing."

Remus pulled a face, "Sirius..."

Sirius interrupted the last remaining friend from happier days, "If I can't be trusted without reservations, how can you trust Snape?"

Remus slumped back into the couch. A forlorn look was on his face.

They tried to change the topic but neither was into it and thus Sirius soon accompanied Remus to the fireplace. "You don't want to stay? We've got the house all to ourselves. We could go out and..."

"No, I need to get back to my mission."

"The other werewolves..." Sirius nodded in understanding.

"I don't want Voldemort to use them as expandable enforcers!" Remus said not without a certain vehemence, "They live tough lives thanks to the Ministry's regulations. I don't want their lives to become even worse due to some of my kind falling for Voldemort's false promises!"

"Your kind?" Sirius grabbed his friends shoulders to look him straight in the eyes. "You're a wizard, Remus! A cursed one. But still a wizard."

Remus chuckled darkly, "It's hard to believe that when the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is in charge of your life. It's always at your back..."

"I'm sorry, Remus." Sirius grimaced. Somehow, he felt like he had let his friend down. "I should not have burdened you with my opinion. You already have enough to worry about."

The other wizard sighed in distress, "It's alright. You only said what you're thinking. I can hardly blame you for being honest. I'm a bit sad but I can't hold against you that you told me how you feel. I'm sure over time you'll look at things differently again. Keep your tail up!"

Sirius laughed in amusement. "Thanks! I'll keep that in mind,"

Remus clapped his back. "We're friends." He sighed once more, "And you can tell me anything. I won't judge you,"

Sirius felt his lips split into a mad toothy grin. They hugged yet again. A few moments later Remus vanished in green flames.

A wane smile played along Sirius' lips when he started climbing stairs. There was one thing Snivellus had been right about. So far he had contributed nothing to their struggle against Voldemort. Even the thing Snape called him responsible for was not his doing. Harry had made the decision.

And despite what their spy thought, he and Remus were not to blame for the incident. It still remained a mystery how the Death Eaters had found out about the Grangers' address. Arthur's efforts had proven that Remus' and Sirius' had not been at fault. There were no records of any magic being cast at Hermione's place. The use of enchanted items was indeed not traceable.

Therefore the Death Eaters had not found out about her address thanks to them. A misdirected or intercepted report from the Office for the Improper Use of Magic to alert another office like the Aurors or Obliviators had been the most likely explanation for the attack. But there had been nothing to report. And the staff of the Office for the Improper Use of Magic could have handed the address over at any point in time.

There was just no tangible reason at all to attack Hermione on the day Harry left her house. If the timing of the attack wasn't a complete coincidence, there had to be a connection between Harry's leave from Hermione's home and the attack. But the Death Eaters had no reason to wait for Harry to leave. He was the more valuable target. And there couldn't be a leak in the Order either because they had fetched Harry up as soon as they realized where he was.

Sirius growled in anger. He could not wrap his mind around this riddle. He was frustrated because so far all he had done to fight Voldemort, was standing guard regularly. He ran errands too. But that was a very irregular thing and not very important in the first place. He tried everything to be useful. He offered his house to the Order and he had started stocking supplies.

Beyond this, there was nothing he could do. His reputation was in shatters due to his unjust imprisonment. And because of his personal story with the ministry, there was no way it would help their cause if he spoke up and publicly claimed that Voldemort had returned. And sadly, he wasn't the type to recruit anyone either...

Sirius only stopped climbing the stairs when there were no more stairs to climb. It took him a while to register that he had reached the top floor. There were only two doors. He turned for the right one. His fingers took hold of the handle. He pressed it down and pushed the door open.

He stood there and stared at the past. This was the room of a teenager. It was hard to make out the Gryffindor-red walls because they were plastered with pictures of scantily clothed girls. They were posing on bikes, leaning over things, or just posing.

Sirius was one step away from submerging himself in dreams of the past.

This night, his feet proved unwilling to cross the threshold. Instead of entering the room he turned his back on it.

Some hastened steps brought him to the only other room on the floor. The memory of his brother turned Sirius' expression grim. A sign on the door told everyone to stay outside. Sirius pushed the door angrily open. It smashed into the wall.

His face was a grimace. He bawled, "What were you thinking!" Whether he was asking his dead brother or his dead parents he did neither know nor care.

There was a four-poster bed made of wood so dark it was almost black. Sirius' parents had succeeded at least partially in their attempt to turn their firstborn son into a proper heir: Sirius recognized the wood instantly as Gabon ebony. Stripped tapestries in green and silver decorated the walls. Everything about Regulus' room was so cliche!

Sirius stormed over the thick carpet and ripped the door of the wardrobe open. Black robes everywhere. Sirius ripped them out and threw them to the floor. Suddenly, one of them made him stop. His hands were so cramped he nearly ripped the black cloth apart. On first glance, this robe was hardly different from the other ones. But this very style had fallen out of grace on a very special date almost fourteen years ago.

The last Black by name put it on. Then he stepped to Regulus' dresser. A mirror was hanging right over it. It would be here. He knew it! Regulus had stood at this exact spot. He had put it on and admired himself. Sirius pulled the two top drawers open. And there it was! Whatever charm might have protected it once from being found must have failed years ago. Or maybe there had never been a charm to protect it.

A mask lay on black velvet. It completed the attire Sirius currently wore. The black robe was just not complete without this accessory.

Sirius put it on and apparated to the doorstep of Grimmauld Place from where he vanished right away. It really wouldn't do for anybody to see a Death Eater at his place. He reappeared in a cave close to Hogwarts.

Sirius grinned lopsidedly. James would have been appalled. Lily would have lectured him. And it would not have been one of those nice lectures about muggles! More like that one at the end of their fifth year. She had read them the riot act. Her words had been dripping with disdain and she had looked at them like they were the scum of the earth.

It had shaken James' self-perception. They had both grown up over that summer because a teenage girl had faced them down. James had desperately wanted Lily's approval. He had wanted her more than anything before. Sirius wondered if that was love?

Anyway, James had pulled it off! Despite not getting named a prefect he became Head Boy after he turned over a new leaf in his sixth year. He was the influence Remus had failed to be and even Sirius partially changed his attitude. And in the end and against all odds, James got the girl.

For a moment, Sirius could feel Lily's and James' presence. But neither of those two was alive. All that was left of them was Harry. And it was Sirius duty to make sure he survived.

His plan was sketchy. The idea behind it was insane. Executing it was morally wrong.

What could go wrong? He could die. He could destroy his reputation.

His steps slowed. His reputation was already in tatters. Sirius shrugged his shoulders - one thing less to worry about.

Anyway, he could turn his friends against him. But he had been through that before. And he knew at least Harry would allow him to explain himself.

The glow of the moon led Sirius out of the cave. He set foot onto the side of a Scottish hill. It was past the witching hour. And Hogsmeade was asleep.

Grabbing tighter onto his wand, Sirius apparated to the edge of the only all-wizarding village in Britain. He sneaked along a few streets and finally stepped into the shadow of a high hedge.

It was madness to stand there in the attire of a Death Eater but he didn't know how to proceed. He had not planned this far ahead. He had not planned at all!

A few flickering lanterns were illuminating the village in an eerie light. Sirius wondered whether he should just return home and forget about this silly act.

He was close to calling off the entire whatever-this-was when a wizard stepped into the alley, Sirius was hiding in. The wizard was clearly drunk. He was weaving.

The alley was small and there was no way to overlook Sirius. For a long, breathless moment the two of them stared at each other. Both too shocked to do anything. Then the unknown wizard groped his cloak.

"Stupefy!" Sirius hit his opponent before he could even fish his wand out.

From there it was surprisingly easy to come up with the next step. He aimed his wand carefully at the cobbled paving. Luckily, killing the drunk wizard was not necessary. Harming him would be more effective because he would leave a witness behind.

"Bombarda!" The bang was loud and the resulting hole was quite impressive. Sirius noticed some blood.

The last thing for Sirius to do before running very far away was aiming his wand at the sky and barking, "Morsmodre!"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the continued interest in this story and the nice reviews. I had some interesting criticism a while back. And I appreciated it. One thing I was told was that the story is kind of treading water. I'll try to push the plot forward. I know where I want to go with the story so hopefully, that won't be too tough for me.


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